


Loyalties

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you need to figure out where your loyalties really lie<br/>and what you are prepared to do for those loyalties.<br/>*** no canon character deaths ***</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loyalties

## Loyalties

#### by MJ

  
Not mine, darn it, but Pet Fly's. We went for a run and I put them back. Honest.  
A Moonridge auction story won by the inestimable Pat K.   
Background: The mess over Blair's dissertation is in the past, but instead of going to the Police academy, Blair has been able to submit a dissertation covering the 'police subculture' and he has received his doctorate. (After all, he never released the Sentinel dissertation nor did he speak of it as his doctoral dissertation at the press conference.) Then, with Simon Bank's support, he is hired by the Police Department as a ethnicity/cultural relations specialist, assigned to Major Crimes but available to other departments on an as needed basis. He also teaches seminars at the Academy and to serving police officers on cultural sensitivity and community connections.   
Cuisine: The soup Jim makes is bouillabaisse, a wonderful seafood soup from southern France.   
Medical and Legal Facts: The effects of mixing ma huang and gingseng and the details of the type of cancer are based on research. The same is true about the Washington State law on assisted suicide and the references to a Supreme Court of the United States decision in the Glucksberg case. It is also true that various US states have concerns over the misuse of ma hueng and have plans to regulate its use.   
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

Loyalties by MJ 

A Moonridge Auction Story   
June 2006 

^^^  
Sometimes you need to figure out where your loyalties really lie and what you are prepared to do for those loyalties. 

^^^ 

Sunrise...just sunrise...light, defuse...in mist...defuse, soft, unclear...hidden, mist, uncertain. where? where am I? trees... I see trees...and there, open fields...misty distance, mist among the trees... there, go there, open...there...a path... through the mist...into the mist...why am I ?...why did I come...or leave...did I come or leave? There ...what is that...closer, get closer... this way...path...trees, so tall, up, up, closing in...pine needles on the earth...sharp piney smell...clean... fallen tree...moss, soft, like velvet...hmm... that way...water...water sound...a stream running over stones...splashing water...peace...not peace...a fountain...no...a stream... forward, move on, hurry, hurry, hurry. 

There... I hear them...them? ...who? ...there, just there...just past ...just beyond these trees...there!... who?... So misty...can't get there...who?... man, woman....laughter...no, no, not laughter...a cry...what?...she...she is running around him...he is so still...his eyes... I see his eyes...watching her...following her...she moves farther from him...he's ...he's calling her back...with his hands... but she...she does not see...oh... she comes back...she gives him...something...what? ...from her hands....he stands...stares...now...now he fades...and now...now...he's gone...gone... she's crying now...searches for...cries...digs in the earth...he's gone...wait...where did she...she's gone, too. 

I am alone in the forest...alone... where do I?...what is there?...rough stones, more water...always water...dragging me...pulling me...what, a glass?...yes...fill it...dip it in...fill ...drink ...yes... ah... what...do you want?...who are you?...wait...two of you...don't...don't pull at me...let me...let me...only one at a time...let me...only one glass...let me pick...only...oh, God, where is my hand? ... my right hand!! NO!!! NO!!! NO!!! MY HAND!!! MY HAND!!! 

**"MY HAND!!! MY HAND!!!"**

Blair jerked upright, gasping hard. He grabbed his right hand with his left and clutched it to his chest, sheltering it. 

Beside him, startled into action, Jim seized Blair's near arm and stared up at his lover, "What, Blair? What's wrong? Your hand? Let me see your hand. Come on, love, let me see." He tried to pull the hand free but Blair would not release it and Jim did not want to hurt him. 

"It's not gone, it's not gone. I didn't lose it. Still got it." He was rocking back and forth crooning the calming words to himself. 

Jim sat up, put a long arm around Blair's shoulders and drew him close. "Nightmare again. That same one?" Blair shivered. "Yah. Only this time, this time... took my hand." He pulled away slightly to peer over the railing down into the kitchen. "Did I cry out? Did I wake Mom?" As usual, Blair was more concerned for his mother than himself. 

Listening to Naomi's calm heart rate and her sleep-mode breathing, "No, she's still asleep." 

A sigh. "Good." 

Jim glanced at the bedside clock: 3 a.m. Four hours before they had to get up. Pulling Blair back down with him to the pillows and cradling him to his body, "Chief, what is causing these dreams, these nightmares?" 

"I don't know, man. It... it feels like I should understand...as if there was a message, maybe a spirit dream, but..." He shook his head sadly. "Incacha must be disappointed in me. What a lousy shaman I am." He frowned, pressing his face against Jim's warm skin. 

Jim tightened his embrace and ran a soothing hand up and down Blair's bare back. "You are a new shaman. It takes time. Let yourself grow into it. Even Incacha had off days." 

Slightly muffled by Jim's chest, "Sure, ok, but I am having an off life." 

"I don't believe that." 

"It's been over a year since he..." 

"Maybe you just need to...trust yourself. Let yourself believe you can." 

Blair lay quietly against Jim for a few moments. "Yah... You really trust me, don't you?" 

"With everything I am." His hand moved in soothing circles over Blair's shoulder blades. Blair snuggled closer and let himself be gentled toward sleep again. 

* * *

The elevator doors slid open on the 6th floor before either passenger noticed. Jim was jabbing a hard finger into Blair's chest as he loomed over the shorter man. 

"You never ever leave you gun where it can be found by civilians. Never!" 

Blair stepped out of the elevator and away from that finger, his face reddening with suppressed ire. One more poke and he was going to poke back. Jim had been lecturing him all the way from the loft and he had enough. Before the fountain, he might have let it roll off his back but not since. No, not since. 

One sharp gesture with his right hand, palm outwards, directed towards Jim's chest. "I got it, ok? Back off." His voice was sharp with his irritation. 

Jim's hand fell away to his side. A soft 'damn' under his breath. Before Jim could say anything else, Blair stalked forward and shoved open the glass doors into Major Crimes. 

The bullpen was largely empty, only Megan, sitting at her desk. She glanced up, "Morning, Sandy." Blair mumbled, "Hi" and continued on to hang up his jacket on the stand near Jim's desk. 

Megan made a questioning face at Jim as he passed, gesturing with her head toward Blair. Jim shrugged and followed his partner. 

The backpack thumped down onto his own desk, Blair stared off through the windows of Simon Bank's office to the skyline of Cascade beyond. The week had barely started and Jim was doing it again, that controlling act. He needed to calm the anger that was running through his veins, knowing it was not going to help but unwilling simply to overlook Jim's behaviour. Again. His back and shoulders were stiff with tension and he would have a headache if he couldn't let the anger go. A long slow breath and counting the slats in the venetian blinds hanging in the first panel of Simon's window but that did not do the trick. 

Jim moved close to his partner and in a voice cast low enough, only for Blair, "Understand, Chief, I was really startled that Naomi would even pick up a gun." The tone asked for forgiveness even if the words weren't there. Jim stood still, head tilted to one side, eyes on Blair's face. 

Blair stared at Jim for a moment, assessing. Jim's face was neither annoyed nor teasing. No. A serious expression, those cool blue eyes softened by something that might be regret. The tense set of Blair's shoulders relaxed somewhat at the look in his partner's eyes and then a quiet "Yeah, me, too. I was amazed she found where I hid it." 

Jim relaxed his clenched hand. "Maybe you need a new place. So where did you...?" 

Blair's eyes flicked away to Megan and back as he whispered. "Who would have thought my Mom would go into my underwear drawer and dig behind all my boxers." 

A soft chuckle. "Shit, Sandburg, don't you know that almost everybody hides his gun in his underwear drawer?" 

Eyes wide, face lit up in delight, "Oh my god! Didn't realize before. Talk about Freudian. Gun...underwear. That is so phallic!" His voice had risen, attracting Megan's attention. She grinned at him, signalling she had heard his comments. With an embarrassed smile, he stopped speaking and started digging in his backpack. 

At Blair's words, Jim had turned his head away and coughed into his hand so neither Blair nor Megan could see his face but his deep laugh was clearly audible through the cough. Blair celebrated one more time the way he could break Jim up, ruining that long-cultivated hard-ass cop faade. 

Face split in a shit-eating grin, Blair hissed at Jim, "Imagine. You come home and .... Is that a gun in your...?" 

He was stopped by Jim's raised finger and warning rumble, "You start paraphrasing Mae West and I'll..." 

"What? What will you do?" Blair's voice was lightly challenging, his body raising up slightly on his toes, arms spreading from his sides. He saw Jim's nose flare, probably scenting the undercurrent of excitement Blair felt through his body. With a slow leer, Jim leaned toward his Guide but was stopped by the roar from the inner office. 

"Ellison! Sandburg!" 

With a look at each other that said this game was not over, only postponed, they headed into Simon Bank's office. The Captain handed a single sheet of paper to Jim without comment. The Sentinel read it quietly and looked back at his boss, puzzled. Without looking, he started to pass the paper to Blair. 

"Why'd we get this, Simon? No indication of..." 

Banks interrupted him with a gesture of his unlit cigar. "Chief Warren called. Damned if I know how he found out so fast. Notice the name of the deceased?" 

A quick glance at the paper still in his hand. "Jerome Agel. The activist lawyer? What was he doing here in Cascade?" 

A sharp intake of breath drew Jim's eyes to him. The younger man had grabbed the paper and, eyes locked on its contents, had gone stock-still. 

"Exactly the Chief's concern." 

Simon's voice drew the detective's eyes back to his boss but Jim's right hand cupped Blair's near arm just below the elbow. 

Simon rolled his cigar between broad fingers. "Likely just a straightforward death but the Chief wants my best team to make sure. So ...go make sure. The Coroner's people have been told to wait until you've looked over the scene before removing the body. Serena Chang will be along right after the lab work she's doing." The cigar was in his mouth: dismissal. 

"Very good, sir." Jim focussed his full attention back on Blair. "Chief?" 

Banks glared at Blair where he stood unmoving and quiet. The cigar was back in his hand. "Sandburg, what are you waiting for? Go. Go." He waved a big hand toward the door. 

Blair's eyes begged Simon Banks. "No doubt of his identity, Captain?" 

"None that I am aware of. Why?" 

"I ... he's a friend of Naomi's. I... I met him a couple of times when I was a kid. I can't..." His voice fell silent. "Can't deal with the case? Look, you've been around here long enough to know..." Banks rumbled. 

"No, it's not that. I just can't believe it. Damn, it's going to kill Mom. They are...were really close." He looked from Banks to Jim and back. 

Jim stepped fully into Blair's personal space and curved long fingers around his shoulder. "Well, at least she is going to hear it from you, Chief. Not on the TV or in the newspaper. Come on, let's find out what happened." Blair nodded and started toward the door. As upset as he was, he was still aware of Jim's hand now hovering in the middle of his back, touching lightly only with fingertips. Not directing but staying connected. 

Simon stared thoughtfully after them as they grabbed their jackets and wended their way through the bullpen to the elevator. 

* * *

Blair was quiet all the way to the motel. Jim kept glancing at him but said nothing, leaving him alone to deal with his emotions. It was the way Jim would prefer it had he been upset and the way he started off treating Blair in any situation. Letting the younger man work it out by himself first but being aware, now they were so much closer, of how Blair was doing and alert to any sign he might want more than a pat on the arm. 

There was a space near the entrance to the motel that Jim slid the Ford into. At the door of the motel, Blair hesitated. Jim looked back at him. "Chief?" 

"I don't know, Jim. Never seen anyone like a good friend, you know, discovered dead." 

"You don't have to come if you don't want to but I might need you. What if you stand just inside the door of the room and keep your eyes on me?" 

Blair nodded and followed closely behind Jim through the motel doors and down the corridor to the suite guarded by a uniformed officer. As they walked, Jim had automatically hung his ID around his neck and snapped on his latex gloves. No pause at the door of the suite. But as Blair reached the doorway, the officer's arm came out and halted Blair until the police consultant thought to flash his own ID. For a moment, he focussed on Jim's back and stepped to the left of the doorway into a kitchenette area but he could not prevent his eyes seeking out the bed where Agel's body lay, mostly under the covers. A shiver down his back. 

The police photographer was standing in the kitchenette area. Jim looked over to him, "Finished, Bob?" At the man's nod and ignoring the coroner's men leaning against the wall near the door, Jim had gone immediately to the body, paused beside it and then come right back to Blair. Softly, "No blood, Chief and no obvious cause of death. Can you come over and identify him?" 

"Yah, I, yah." Blair walked quickly to the bed and stared down into the pale face. Agel was lying on his side, facing the doorway, his left hand clutched into a hard fist near his face. "It's Jerome Agel, no doubt. Damn, he's so...!" Jim's fingers curved around Blair's near wrist and squeezed gently, the gesture hidden by their bodies. 

Jim reached down and touched the chill face. The muscles were stiff but just beginning to soften. He leaned closing sniffing lightly. His head tilted and he tried again. Blair had moved to his side, one hand barely touching Jim's near arm. Jim closed his eyes. 

"Anchor me, Chief. There's this scent... can't quite get it." 

The Guide's voice encouraged, "Try and identify the type of smell... man made or natural. Belongs to the body or added. Sharp or muted. Sweet or sour or bitter..." 

"Slow down, Darwin. It's not metallic. Not man made. It's like...like...something ...for cooking...herbs or not cooking but..." 

"Is it stronger near the bed or elsewhere in the room?" 

Jim stepped away from the bed and backed up, glancing around as if searching for something. He bumped into one of the coroner's men. "Hmmp. Sorry." Jim moved back toward the kitchenette. 

The smaller of the coroner's staff hissed to his big partner, in a middle European accent, "Whatz he doin'?" A deep voice rumbled back, "No idea, Marcus!" 

Jim seemed to notice them now. "Maybe you boys could wait in the hall until we're finished here." 

"Sure. I don't care. Going to be long? Could go for a coffee in that shop near the lobby." 

"Yah, been a long morning." The other man, a large man with a teddy bear face and broad smile, cocked his head, looking for agreement from the detective. 

Jim wasn't paying any attention to them now so Blair nodded at them. "Sure. We'll let you know when..." Blair had just noticed the striking tattoo on the shorter man, peeking out from the hair at the side of his head and curving toward his ear. Striking and unusual. 

"See something?" the tattoo'd man challenged. When Blair raised his hands in surrender, "Come on, Richard." Both men headed out the door and Blair hurried to Jim. 

Meanwhile, Jim had moved back toward the bed. "I'm getting it in two places: from that pot on stove and from around the night table. This glass," he pointed to the large glass sitting on the table by the bed, "and from the refuse bucket, there." The bucket under the table was full of folded white paper packets. "Pass me some evidence bags, Chief, one at a time." He popped the glass into the first one Blair held out and left it to Blair to label the bag while he took the next plastic bag from him. He drew one of the packets out of the refuse bucket carefully and slid it into the bag, sniffing at it only once he had it enclosed. Back to Blair with that one and the remaining packets into three more bags. 

Voice pitched low, "Those the source of that smell, Jim?" 

"Origin, yup." He held up the last bag sniffing it once more but stopped as Serena Chang entered the room. "Hey, Serena, got some things here for you and I think we need that pot on the stove too. None of it has been dusted for prints yet." 

Serena set down her evidence case and Blair passed her the individual bags he had labelled. She smiled at him and proceeded to bag up the pot. Then she glanced at the bagged paper packets. 

"Jim, these are from a local Chinese herbalist, over on Keefer. Place I use myself." 

"Hmm. Could I take these for a bit? I promise I won't open them. Like to speak to the owner of the shop. Who is it?" 

She pulled out a large heavy paper envelope, wrote on it and dropped the bagged packets into it, one by one. "Lau. Address and name of shop is right here on the packet, Jim." She pointed to a line of Chinese characters and grinned, knowing he did not read Mandarin. 

"Ah, Serena?" He raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Ok, for you long noses," and she turned the packet over to the English script. "Be nice; a good friend." She pushed the last of the evidence bags into the envelop and passed it all to Jim. 

"I'm always nice, Serena. I'll leave you to it. A heads up: guess how impatient Simon is going to be for results." 

"Isn't he always?" She signed the brown envelop indicating she was turning it over to Jim. Extending it out to him, "That man is going to have a heart attack someday if he does not relax a bit. And yes, I do know the sensitivity of this one. Dan is coming in to do the autopsy while I do the lab work. Results as soon as humanly possible." 

"I know you will. See you later." 

Blair had been staring at Agel's body the whole while. He murmured to Jim, " I remember him...so vital and lively. Met several times over the years. Can this really be him?"gesturing to the body on the bed. 

"Chief?" 

"Hmm? Oh yeah, coming. Ah, bye, Serena." 

The forensic specialist umhmm'd in response, now busy bagging the body's hands. 

As they passed the coffee shop off the hotel's lobby, Jim called to the two men from the coroner's staff. "See Serena Chang to check if she's done. Need you to get him to Dan Wolf on an urgent basis." 

A broad hand waved and the voice attached to it boomed, "Right you are." And dragged his colleague to his feet. "Come on. You heard the man." 

"Himmel, would you let me finish my coffee!" 

The big man laughed at his grumpy partner, a rumble that filled the small shop. 

Jim and Blair left the coffee shop before this was resolved. As they were about to leave, the uniformed cop who had been guarding the suite door approached them. "The motel manager wants to know when he can have the room again. What do I tell him?" 

"Not yet. Maybe later today. Tell him it's a crime scene. Make sure he understands that. That no one other than police are allowed in there until we tell him." 

"Yes, sir." 

The detective and his partner left the motel. Blair murmured quietly, "A crime scene, Jim? You think someone killed him?" 

As he opened the driver's door on his Ranger, "Don't know that but there is something not right there. We'll know more when we have the results from Serena and Dan. Right now we have a couple of things to check out." He slipped behind the wheel and dropped the big envelope of bagged evidence on the seat between them. 

As he seatbelted himself, Blair asked, "Maybe we could go see Mom soon?" His voice was calm but had that undercurrent of tension that Jim had sensed since they heard about Agel's death. He needed to do something to distract Blair for a while. 

"You bet, Chief. Soon. By the way, ah, did she say anything to you about us." He gestured between them. "Us? The PD thing? She knows about that." 

Jim rumbled, "You know what I mean, Sandburg. You, me, asleep in the loft bed when she arrived two nights ago. And when did she get her own key?" 

Jim could feel Blair relaxing. "My fault on the key, Jim. Thought I got it back after her last visit. On the sleeping bit, she did say it made her happy that I would not have to sleep on the couch during her visit." 

"Great. So how long is she... not that I don't like your Mom. But it makes it...a bit disconcerting if we want to...no walls, sound travels..." 

Blair sat, eyes all innocent confusion, letting Jim fumble around. "Yes, Jim?" 

A swat to Blair's head. "You know damn well what I am saying. Tell me you want to make love with your mother listening to every sound we make. Every fucking sound!" He emphasized the word 'fucking' to its verb rather than expletive meaning with a gesture of his hand. 

Blair laughed. "No, man. Don't want her digging through my underwear drawer either. She didn't say exactly... a few days. Can you hold out?" 

"Well, unless we are going to start making out in the truck...or the shower. Now there is an idea." 

"Nope. Too slippery and too hard on the knees. No way. I want to be comfortable." 

"That is it. You just love me for my bed." Jim started up the truck and shaking his head, pushed the evidence bags toward Blair. "Now, tell me where we are going." 

Opening up the big paper envelop, Blair pulled out one evidence bag and turning it to the English side, "Ah, Lau Chinese Herbal Emporium, 49 Keefer Street. So why would these bags of herbs make you suspicious?" 

"Nothing specific, just unusual and what is unusual needs to be explained. To be understood." He pulled out into traffic. 

"Like being a Sentinel." 

"Or a Guide." 

Blair looked at Jim and smiled softly. "Or what it means to be a Guide." He stared out the window for the rest of the trip but Jim could tell he was not brooding now. 

* * *

The truck pulled up to Lau's shop, an unimposing front of dark green and grey, its windows filled with jars and tins. The interior was invisible from the street, its low lighting gloomy. At the doorway, Jim backed up suddenly, sneezing. Immediately, Blair took his arm and murmured firmly, "Dial it back. Way down, Jim." He took the evidence envelope from the cop as he spoke. 

A cough and Jim's reaction steadied and disappeared. "Place looks like something out of a horror flick. Smells like it too." 

Blair ignored his comments and led the way into the shop. No one stood behind the counter and they were about to call out when a figure appeared from behind a row of high shelves. To their surprise, the person was a young woman in stylish dress, in the act of pulling on a black high-collared robe. 

"Ah. Good day, gentlemen." The woman put the robe aside. "What can I do for you?" 

Extending his badge, "We would like to see the proprietor, a Mister Lau. Detective James Ellison, Cascade Police. This is my partner, Blair Sandburg." 

"I'm Anna Lau. I am the proprietor." At Jim's surprised look, "I know, you were expecting some old guy who looked like he was a hundred. That would have been my grandfather. I took the shop over from him last year. I am a state-accredited pharmacist as well as a trained Chinese medicinal herbalist." 

Jim had the grace to blush slightly. Blair almost managed to keep his smile to himself. Sliding the plastic evidence bags from the envelope onto the counter, Blair asked, "Do you recognize these?" 

Ms Lau picked up one of the bags and nodded. "Yes, this and this were purchased here. But those," pushing two bags back toward Blair, "are not from this shop." 

"Ok. What did the ones you sold have in them?" 

"This one, ginseng and that, ma huang." 

"Do you recall who purchased them and when?" 

"Well, they were bought yesterday...ah, in the afternoon." 

"Can you be sure?" 

"Yes. See that...my code for the date and time of day. I only put it on at the point of sale along with my initials. There." 

Jim made some notes in his book. "By whom?" 

"By whom, hmm. That is ...wait, I recall." A bright smile. " A fall mother." At Jim's quizzical look, "A woman of middle age with reddish orange hair and a warm smile. Warm manner. Like a pleasant fall day." 

Something made Jim look up from his note making. "How tall? Eye colour? Weight?" 

"Western, not Chinese. Tall for a woman. Taller than your partner but shorter than you. Maybe 5'8" or so. Weight, well, maybe 110. Very slim. Eyes, hmm, I think they were hazel." 

"Hair length?" 

"Shorter than his," gesturing at Blair's head, "soft wispy, not curly but not straight." 

"How was she dressed?" 

"Long flowy dress with a fitted jacket over top. Golden reds." 

"Anything else?" 

"I warned her about the use of ma huang with ginseng. Or I started to but she said they knew all about it." 

"They?" 

"Yes, she did say they but she did not say who the other person was. She said they knew all about herb usage." 

"What sort of warning did you try to give?" 

"That people with heart conditions or who take certain medications should not use ma huang and ginseng together without medical advice. Been some deaths, you know and the State is on the verge of restricting sales." 

"Anything you can say about these other two packets?" 

"Hmm, well they are from a shop in Seattle. More ma huang and ...a very purified ginseng." She frowned. "If they put what I sold them with these... that would make a very potent mix." 

Jim nodded and asked. "Anything else you can tell us?" At the shake of her head, he took out his business card and handed it to her. `Please call us if you think of anything else. Thank you for your assistance." 

As Blair gathered the evidence bags back into the envelope, she tilted her head. "I suppose you can't tell me what this is about?" 

"A situation that needs clarifying. Thank you, Ms Lau." He turned and with a touch at Blair's back, moved out of the store. 

* * *

In the truck, Jim looked over at Blair. The younger man had been very quiet since Anna Lau described the woman who had bought the herbs. Now he was sitting, shoving his hair behind his ears. "You thinking what I am thinking, man? That woman...it could be Mom." 

"Yes or someone else. Don't leap to conclusions." 

"But who else? She knows him. And herbs, you know she is into herbs. Knows all about them." 

Jim ran a hand down Blair's near arm, squeezing lightly. Blair's eyes met his and the tense face made Jim ache. " 'm ok, Jim." 

A final squeeze and Jim pulled out his cell phone. "Let's just see whether Dan Wolf has anything for us. Then we go see Naomi." 

"Yah. I don't want her...there won't be anything on the news, yet, will there?" 

"No. Told the guys to keep it quiet until we have more information. Earliest is going to be tonight's paper or newscasts and I've never seen her reading the local paper or turning on the TV, or even watching the TV news." 

"She says the mainline media distort things and that she does not want to contaminate herself with their lies. But you never know with her. Surprises the heck out of me sometimes." 

A rueful smile from Jim. "She is a unique force, Chief but I don't think she'll be sitting around watching TV. Oh, Dan, it's Ellison. Anything on Agel yet? OK, sure. Yah, we'll call you later." He clicked off the cell. "Just got the body. No results for a couple of hours. Time to go to the loft. " 

As Jim started up the truck, he gave his lover a quick glance. Blair was staring out of the side window again, his hands bunched in his lap for a while and then tugging absently on his jacket. The Sentinel knew his Guide was very stressed and he wished he knew how to make this better. 

Most of the time, they used humour on each other in such situations but humour was not right in this situation. The other approach was touch but he couldn't do that very effectively while he was driving. The most he could do was reach out for a quick caress while they were stopped at a red light. His hand followed the thought: from Blair's knee to his hip, on the outside of his thigh. 

A half turn of his head and the younger man flicked his eyes from Jim's hand to his face and back. A soft inhalation and he spread his left hand over Jim's strong fingers, caressing them with fingertips, acknowledging Jim's effort to express support. 

The light changed and reluctantly, Jim removed his hand. He kept his eyes on the road for the rest of the trip, focussed on getting them home safely. 

Blair took a deep breath and another. "How am I going to ask her? It's going to be bad enough telling her Agel is dead...if she doesn't know already but... how do you ask your mother if she was involved in someone's death?" 

"You don't, Chief. We just tell her about finding him dead and wait." 

"For her to confess?" Blair's voice slipped edged into anger. 

Jim held on to a calm tone with some difficulty. "For her to say whatever she is going to say. You are jumping to conclusions, babe. Ease back, let's get the facts first." 

"Real Joe Friday stuff. This is my Mom we're talking about and you're following SOP?" The anger took over. Jim felt his hands tighten on the wheel. "Yes, your Mom and we giving her the same benefit of the doubt we would give anyone. Not assuming that she has done anything wrong unless the facts say so." 

Blair's eyes closed. "Oh, man, innocent until...sorry, Jim, this whole thing has me spooked." 

"I understand that." Jim pulled into his usual spot in front of 852 Prospect. "Just try and listen to everything...the way you normally do." When Blair stared at him, "You know, beyond the words, what she doesn't say. Her body language. All that stuff you are good at." 

Blair leapt out of the truck and too impatient to wait for the elevator, hurried up the stairs to the third floor, Jim following. As they passed the second floor, Blair, panting slightly, "What if she's not there?" 

Jim could hear Naomi's heartbeat. "She's there, Chief." He was learning the unique beat that was Naomi's, similar to her son's but not identical. Down the hallway and key in the door lock, "You start. Better coming from you." A startled stare and then a nod from Blair. Jim opened the door and let Blair enter first. 

Naomi was sitting on one of the dining room chairs drawn up to the open balcony doors, wrapped in the afghan from the couch, staring out. A part turn of her head at their entry but no immediate greeting. Blair took off his jacket and in his hurry, missed the hook. Jim caught the black leather jacket and hung it up with his own. 

Blair was half way across the room before he spoke. "Mom?" He tried to keep his voice calm but he was not entirely successful. 

"Hey, sweetie, you are home rather early. Are you here for lunch?" Her voice was exactly like Blair's when he was hiding his feelings. A bit too bright but with no energy to it. 

"Mom, I have some news." He knelt by her chair. "Something you need to know." 

Their eyes met and Naomi's face tightened without losing the smile. Then she rose from the chair and patting his cheek, slipped past him and headed for the kitchen. "I should make you boys some lunch. Is spaghetti ok? There's lots of sauce left from the other day." 

Jim watched her closely, having heard the quick increase in her heart rate when Blair started speaking to her. Blair followed her. "Mom, please, I need to tell you now. I need you to know..." 

She was digging in the refrigerator, not looking at him. "We don't seem to have any garlic left. I could just run down to the market on the corner..." She glanced around. "Now where did I leave my purse?" 

Blair grabbed her hands and held on to her. "Mom. Look at me. It's Jerome Agel. He was found this morning. He's gone, mom. Died." 

She had become very still. "Gone? He was...he was..." 

Blair shook her hands in his. "What, Mom, was he?" 

"Tired. He was very tired." She extracted her hands from his and glided away. Jim placed himself between her and the outside door. She noticed and altered her course to head back toward the balcony. 

Blair was staring after her. "When did you see him, Mom?" 

"Yesterday, dear. I picked him up at the airport." 

"You didn't mention..." He had circled around the couch and stood near her at the windows. 

"Didn't I? Well, I did not see much of you yesterday." 

Jim was taking deep breaths, hoping to calm the situation by projecting a composed demeanour. On the third breath, he caught a scent that drew his attention. He moved forward slowly, trying not to be obvious. 

"Did you take him somewhere, Mom?" 

"To his hotel, dear. Really a nice spot near the harbour." She smiled and looked off through the balcony doors. 

"And then..." he prompted. 

"Then, dear?" Her eyes flicked to him. It was as if she was not entirely there. 

"What happened then?" 

The dreamy vagueness left her. "What are you asking, Blair?" 

"What happened next, after you took him to his hotel?" 

"I prepared some things for him to eat...fruit and yoghurt. The room had a kitchenette, and he was too tired to go out to eat." 

Jim asked quietly, "And you bought some herbs, Naomi." It was not a question. 

Her eyes switched to him. "Yes, some herbs." 

"Where from?" 

"Oh, a Chinese herbalist. Nice young woman." 

"What then? Did you do anything with the herbs you bought?" 

"I gave them to Jerome. He asked me to..." She looked at Blair. "Why are you asking this? What does it matter now? He's gone." 

"Yes, Mom, he's gone. What did he ask you? Please, what did he ask you to do?" He was losing his control over his voice. 

Naomi rubbed one hand over his cheek. "It's all right, sweetie. He asked me to brew him a tisane. That's an infusion like tea, Jim." 

"He drank it?" 

"Yes, well I suppose so. Not while I was there. It was hot and he was going to let it cool a bit first. I left before it was cool enough for him. He has developed a sensitivity to hot food and drink." 

"What did you use for the tisane, Naomi?" 

"The herbs...the ones I bought and some others he already had." 

"What were they, the ones he had?" 

"I don't know." 

"You mixed the herbs?" 

"Why all these questions? Please, I ...he's gone." She made a soft waving gesture with her hand. 

"Can you just tell me... help us." 

"No, I really can't help you any more. Where is Jerome now?" 

"With the PD's pathologist." 

Her face paled. "He is...cutting him?" 

"An autopsy is being done, yes." 

"Oh, why?" She was becoming distressed in a way Jim had never seen. 

"Standard procedure when someone dies alone of unknown causes." 

"He'd hate that, being cut. His spirit will be angry." Her arms were tight around her chest. 

"Is there anything you can tell us to help us finalize this case, Naomi?" 

She shook her head. "No, no. I need...I need to meditate." With another shake of her head, she hurried into Blair's old room, closing the door tightly after her. Jim heard a soft groan and then nothing more. 

A quick call to the pathologist and they headed out to hear his preliminary results. Blair wrote a note to his mother rather than disturb her meditation. Jim wondered whether the meditation was just her way of not dealing with a difficult situation. 

* * *

When they reached the morgue autopsy room, Dan Wolf was just finishing his examination of Jerome Agel's body. Blair turned his head so he would not see the body, highlighted by the overhead lamp. With a step, he moved so that Jim was between him and the examining table. 

"You're early, guys. I haven't written it up yet." 

"This is a hot one, Dan. Any bits you can tell us now?" 

"When I get a call at home from Simon Banks on my day off, I know how hot it is. Now, well, sure. Died of heart attack." 

"Nothing suspicious there?" 

"No, his heart was damaged before that." 

Jim pulled the evidence bags out of the brown envelope and handed the bags to Wolf. "Would these herbs have any affect?" 

The pathologist examined each one. "Ma huang and ginseng. Whoa, got the ingredients for herbal ecstasy there, boys. Major stressor on the heart. Ok for those with a normal heart but Agel...could be the cause of the attack. Mind you, with his other condition, only a matter of time before he went." 

"Other condition?" 

He whipped back the sheet covering Agel's face and neck, "See here, just above the suprasternal notch?" His gesture drew the eyes of both other men to the face and neck revealed. The throat was incised from base to half way to the jaw. 

Blair blanched and whirled away, hand going to his mouth. The sound of gagging and he pushed out of the autopsy room at a run. 

"Hey, Sandburg," Dan called after him, "I haven't even shown you the chest incision yet." 

Jim tapped Wolf's arm. "He knows the deceased, Dan. Friend of his mother's." 

"Oh, damn. I'm sorry. Didn't know." 

"We didn't tell you. What other condition?" 

"Looks like cancer of the thyroid and larynx." He pointed to the mass visible through the incision. 

"Damn. Look, can you check him for that combination of herbs? And give Serena back this envelope?" 

"Sure. The stomach contents and blood are being analyzed now. Serena is dealing with it herself. I'll mention the herbs to her. A rush job, hmm?" 

Jim signed the envelope over to Dan, noting date, time and location and passed him the bag. "She already knows about the herbs. Prominent attorney from Seattle." 

"So Simon said when he called. Chief Warren's on his back, hmm?" 

"Yah or some other part of his anatomy. Going to get worse, too. Not just a tidy natural death." 

"Doesn't look like it. I'll get my report done. Got a call into the guy's physician in Seattle... card in his wallet... to check on the cancer and his heart condition." 

"Good. Your guess?" 

Dan shook his head. "Looks like the guy took some ecstasy and didn't realize the danger to his heart condition." 

"Could be but you know Simon. Light in all the dark corners so nothing comes out later to bite him on the ass." 

"Sure. I'll add the results of my call to the doctor to my report. It'll be up as soon as. " 

"Thanks, Dan." 

"Tell Blair I'm sorry about Agel, will you?" 

With a nod, Jim left the morgue to find Blair leaning against the wall near a cool air vent. He reached out, fingers brushing the younger man's cheek. "Chief?" 

"Ok...it's ok. Just didn't..." a deep slightly shaky breath. "Ok." 

"Dan asked me to say he's sorry. Didn't know you knew Agel." 

"Yah, I know he didn't." Blair's voice was quiet, subdued. 

"Let's go see Naomi again." 

Blair's whole body tensed and his forehead wrinkled as if in pain. "Shit. Yah. Have to ask her...but..." He didn't finish the sentence. 

* * *

Jim called Simon and told him it would be a while before they could get back to the precinct. The Captain had not been happy but agreed they try and get some more information from Naomi before they returned for a full briefing. 

Back at the loft, the door of the small bedroom was still closed. Jim had been inclined to knock and ask Naomi to come out but Blair suggested they give her some time to calm while they made lunch. Then they could call her to join them. It didn't take long to heat up the leftover tomato and spinach sauce and to warm the cooked spaghetti. Jim sliced some bread and Blair set the table for three. Their usual routine of working together in the kitchen helped to reduce their own stress levels. 

When it was all ready, Blair tapped on the glass of the french doors. "Mom? We're back. Come join us for lunch. It's ready now. Mom?" 

Nothing happened for a few moments and then the door opened. "I'm not really hungry, sweetie." 

"You need to eat, Mom. Just the spaghetti you suggested." 

"You go ahead, dear. I'm going to get a bit of air." She walked over to the balcony and slipped outside, pulling the door to behind her. 

Blair stared after her until Jim tapped his arm. "Come and eat, babe. Give her some space. She won't be out there long. Too cool in that dress." He tugged a little on Blair's arm. 

"Ok, but...damn. I have never seen her like this. Not even when Great Aunt Esther died." 

They ate in silence, both of them watching Naomi standing on the balcony. When they finished, Jim gestured for Blair to go to his mother while he cleared the table and cleaned up the kitchen. 

Blair pulled the door open. "Mom, aren't you cold out here?" 

"No, sweetie. It's cleansing." 

"Are you ok?" He knew she was not. 

She turned to him and rubbed his near arm. "I'm fine. Processing. You know." With a sad smile, she turned back to stare down toward the harbour. Blair stood in the doorway, uncertain what to do or say. 

Jim joined his lover, putting a hand on Blair's back. He felt uncomfortable but he had to say it. "Naomi?" She glanced back at him. "Are there any more details of your time yesterday with Mr. Agel you recall, anything you think of after we spoke to you earlier? What he said or did?" 

She stared at him. "It's all so unbelievable." 

About to ask another question, Jim was interrupted by the telephone ringing. It was Simon Banks, ordering them back to the station for a meeting on the medical and lab results. "Right, Simon." As he hung up, he gestured to the door. "We need to go, Chief. Boss wants us. Naomi, you'll be here if we need to speak to you again? You won't be going out anywhere?" 

"I suspect so." The reply was given in a distracted tone. 

"If you do leave, you'll leave us a note or call...?" 

Blair pulled away from contact with Jim. "Come on, man!" 

Naomi smiled at her son. "It's all right, Blair. I understand. I promise, Jim." 

"Thank you, Naomi. And if you do think of something or want to talk about anything, please call me. You have my office number and the one for my cell phone, right?" 

"Mmmm hmmm." 

"I am sorry, Naomi. This has been a shock for you. I wish I could..." 

"I know, Jim. I will be fine. I am fine." 

With a nod, Jim moved back into the loft. When Blair did not follow him, "Time to go, Chief. Simon is waiting for us." 

Blair was frowning at him but with a touch on his mother's arm, he left the balcony, took his jacket from Jim and proceeded his partner out the door into the hallway. Silent as they walked down the stairs, he paused beside the truck. "I can't believe you said that to her. Like she, she was a suspect!" 

Jim's hand hovered over the door handle. "She is a material witness in an unexplained death. No one is a suspect." 

"Yet! You mean to say it so say it!" 

"No, I don't. But that is always a possibility in an unexplained death. Got to expect it." 

"Yah, a cop's expectations! Everybody is a criminal!" 

Jim pulled his door open. "You know that is not true. But we are trained to be ready to re-evaluate. Part of what being a detective is about: re-examining your conclusions based on further information." He climbed in and waited for Blair to get in. 

"But isn't there a predilection to see everybody as potential suspects?" 

After a frown, "Yes, I think you are right." 

"See!" 

"Think of it this way: keeps you alert and alive. Ready, if you need to react quickly. Know how many times that has saved my life? And not just as a cop." 

"By mistrusting." 

"By taking precautions, Chief. This is not new to you. You have done the same, even as an anthropologist. I know this is tougher because it's your Mom." 

Blair didn't respond and Jim glanced at him. His partner was chewing the inside of his cheek, worrying at the comments Jim had made. The cop left him to think and pulled out of his parking spot. 

* * *

When they got to the bullpen in Major Crimes, there was a file centred on Jim's desk with several coloured reports attached to it. He pulled off the coloured sheets and handed them to Blair. 

"Check the lab results from Serena while I read Dan's report, Chief." He glanced quickly through the report and he realized he had to speak to Simon immediately. He thought he should let Dan and likely Serena report on their own evidence. It was unusual but this situation was getting complicated. He saw that Simon was in his office and just now noticing that Jim and Blair had arrived. Jim moved to the doorway of Simon's office. 

"Sir, I think we need to go over what we have so far with Dan and Serena here. This situation is...more complex than we thought. You have the time now?" 

"I want something that will finish up this case. The Chief has had his Exec Assistant calling me every hour. I have Rhonda screening my calls now. Let's do it." 

"Right,sir." Jim returned to his desk and called Dan and then Serena. Blair had finished reading the lab reports and was looking morose. One hand curved around Blair's arm and a gentle tug. Very softly, so only Blair could hear, "Keep it steady, Chief. Deep breath. Slow and easy." He tugged again and Blair's eyes snapped to his own and stayed there. "Got Serena and Dan coming up. You need to be ready. Ok?" 

"I'm fine. I'm fine." A 'hoo' of air expelled, a roll of his head and his heart rate slowed a bit. Jim let him go as Serena and Dan arrived. 

"Thanks for coming up. Simon's waiting for us." They settled around the table in Simon's office. Jim ran quickly through what he and Blair had found at the scene. Then he turned the session over to the two technical experts. Serena started. "I examined the contents of the stomach...fruit pieces, yoghurt, and the residue of a tea-like drink. The latter was a steeping of ginseng and ma huang. The same items found in paper packets in the refuse container near the bed. The steeping was found in a glass on the table by the bed and in a pot on the stove in the kitchenette. Same sort of fruit and yoghurt in the refrigerator. Finger prints..." 

"Can you leave that for now, Serena?" 

She glanced at Jim. "All right. I also did a blood analysis of the deceased, Mr. Agel. There were significant amounts of ephedrine." She looked at Simon. "Ma huang is a source of ephedrine, especially the kind of ma huang found in the packets. The level of ephedrine in his blood corresponds to the levels in the steeping and is very high." She paused and glanced at Jim again. He gestured to Dan. 

The pathologist opened the file he had prepared on the autopsy. "Mr. Agel died of a heart attack. According to information provided by his physician, Dr. Richard Anderson, he had a heart condition but it was not enough in itself to have caused death without some other agent. The levels of ephedrine might be sufficient to be that agent. I have faxed Doctor Anderson the lab blood results and my autopsy report for review. Haven't heard back from him yet. The Doctor did mention that Agel was taking drugs for his heart condition. I checked with Serena but no such drugs were found among Mr. Agel's things at the hotel." Serena nodded her agreement with the report. Dan paused and stared at his hands for a moment. 

"Something else, Dan?" Simon Banks asked. 

"If he had not had the heart attack, Agel would have survived only a few months. Six at the most. He had cancer of the thyroid that was spreading to his larynx. Doctor Anderson confirmed it was type E anaplastic cancer. Diagnosed a couple of weeks ago. Fast growth. No cure." 

"Shit!" Blair hissed under his breath but everyone heard him. 

Dan coughed slightly and continued. "Doctor Anderson told me Agel was not happy with the proposed treatment. Removal of his thyroid and larynx followed by intensive chemotherapy." 

"I thought you said there was no cure." 

"There isn't. These measures are intended to delay ... things." Dan sounded like he was apologizing and since he glanced across the table to Blair, there was no doubt to whom he was apologizing. A nervous shuffling of bodies around the table. 

Simon took control back. "I can't say I blame him, then, for rejecting the therapy. Anything else?" 

Jim took out his notes and laid them on the table. "We traced some of the packets of herbs to a local Chinese herbalist. Interviewed her. She recalled the person who bought the packets. Tall woman, red hair, middle aged. Dressed in a jacket over a flowing dress of golden red." Jim steeled himself for Blair's reaction. "We then went to see Naomi Sandburg, a long-time friend of the deceased. Told her about Agel's death. She admitted buying the herbs locally at Agel's request and making a tisane, like a tea, from them for Agel. She added other herbs that he gave her, ones that had been purchased in Seattle according to the label on them. Left him with the tisane. He did not drink it while she was there." He glanced at Serena and nodded. 

The forensic chief took up the briefing. "The glass and pot both had her fingerprints. Agel's also on the glass. Both of them on the packets of herbs." 

"How did you identify their fingerprints?" 

"Dan took Mr. Agel's this morning but both Mr. Agel and Ms Sandburg were on the federal register as a result of arrests in Chicago, 1968...." 

Blair mumbled 'the democratic convention protests' to himself. 

"...and more recent environmental protests around the country." 

"Damn. I knew I did not want to hear this. Jim...you know what I have to do now." He rose and opened his office door. "Connor, come in, would you?" 

Blair looked between his lover and Simon a bit confused and then it hit. "No, man. No way!" 

Simon held up his hand. Megan Connor stood next to the doorjamb, waiting. 

"Captain?" 

"Take a seat, Connor. This case," pushing the file across the table at her, "is being reassigned to you." 

Blair was shaking his head and murmuring 'no, no' as Megan's face expressed her concern. No detective liked to be given someone else's case, especially when that other person was a friend. 

"Read the file and get briefed by Dan and Serena on the physical evidence. Jim, you tell Connor all you have found so far." 

"Captain. Sir...can't we work together?" Jim's voice maintained a reasonable tone in the face of Blair's distress. 

"You know I can't let you work on this now that Naomi is involved. Connor, I want you to go and interview Naomi Sandburg. She is staying with Ellison and Sandburg. Make sure we have all the information." 

"Simon, please...she is in shock. Jerome Agel is...was a close family friend." Blair tried to keep his voice calm though his mind told him to scream. 

"All the more reason you should not be working on this case, Sandburg." 

"Ok, ok, but let Jim and me go with Megan. Just to ease things. Please Simon." 

"I'm not happy ... but Megan is in charge. She does all the interviewing and you two say nothing to interfere with her doing the job." He gestured between Jim and Blair with his unlit cigar. "Understand? If you can't..." 

"We can, Captain." Jim answered after a quick glance at Blair, who nodded. 

"All right. I want a report on the results of the interview by end of shift, Connor." 

"Yes, sir." She was clearly uncomfortable with the situation but not about to refuse the assignment. 

"And Connor, let's not forget we are probably dealing with an accident here." He frowned, mostly at himself. "But then you know that already. Let's get this done quickly. And no one talks to anyone about this case. We don't want rumours appearing as facts in the press. Got that, ladies and gentlemen?" 

Everyone murmured their assent and left the Captain's office. 

"Um, I guess I'll meet you at the loft. Drive myself over, ok?" Megan kept her tone as neutral as possible. Blair had not looked at her since Simon gave her the case. Jim patted her arm. 

"Right, Connor. See you there." 

All three of them headed for the elevator. 

* * *

Until they were half way to the loft, Blair sat, silent and tense. Then his face turned to Jim. "Mom didn't say anything about the cancer. She mustn't have known." 

Jim didn't comment. He couldn't say what he was thinking. 

Blair stared at him. "What? You think she did? That she's hiding things?" 

"It's possible, Chief. She was not very ...she did not want to talk about this situation this morning. And she didn't mention picking up Agel at the airport." 

"She said she hadn't seen much of us. That's true." 

"We ate supper together last night." 

"But we went out right after..." Jim could tell Blair was trying to convince himself as much as Jim. "But that still doesn't mean she did anything wrong. Sometimes she just doesn't like to deal with things like death. Oh shit!" "Easy. All I am saying is that she might not have shared everything. She doesn't always with me there. I am still part of the 'pigs'." 

"No man, she doesn't think like that about you and... and she seems to have come to terms with me working with the police. All that stuff after the mess over my diss. She didn't object..." 

Jim flashed on his anger over the chaos she had caused to Blair's life but shoved it away. "Well, of course maybe if she knew about Agel's medical problems, she simply did not want to deal with it...couldn't face telling you about it just then." 

"Yah, processing it all and then we weren't there... that could be it." 

Jim kept quiet. After all the uproar over the unauthorized release of Blair's dissertation had settled down, he had thought about Naomi's role and the way she slipped away so quickly after Simon had offered Blair a new future. He saw how that had hurt Blair. He loved Naomi as his partner's mother but there were times when he couldn't excuse her treatment of Blair. How many times Blair had said she had left him with friends and relatives to go off. It had made Blair the man he was but it still rankled Jim. Not that he could ever say anything to Blair or even Naomi. 

They arrived at 852 Prospect just behind Megan. The three of them took the elevator to the third floor. Jim refrained from extending his hearing, not wanting to know if Naomi was there. 

As they entered the loft, Blair hurried forward. "Mom? Mom?" but there was no answer. "She must have gone out to the store or something. Look for a note." 

Megan and Jim looked but there was no note. Connor pointed to the phone. "No message on the phone." 

Blair ran into the small downstairs bedroom. "Oh, damn." Jim and Megan followed and watched as Blair pulled open the dresser drawers he had emptied for her use. "Her clothes are gone. Her suitcase...gone too. Oh, Mom, what have you done?!" 

Jim returned to the main room and took a long, slow breath. Another. "Wait, Sandburg. Someone else has been here." 

"What? Who?" He touched Jim's back, grounding him automatically. 

"Someone who smokes. But not tobacco." 

"Not Mom doing her sage cleansing?" 

"No, not sage. Hmm but herbal of some sort. Not someone smoking here but a smoker." 

Megan asked, puzzled, "How can you tell?" 

"The subtlety of the scent." He inhaled again. "Hmm." Jim was focussed on the scents trying to glean all he could. Blair tried for calm. "Ok, someone who smokes herbal cigarettes has been in the loft. Oh damn! Jim! She's been kidnapped?!" 

"Stop there, babe. Nothing here says kidnap." He walked over and examined the door lock. "Door was not forced. No sign of a struggle. The fact that her clothes and her suitcase were taken, the drawers left closed, tidy." "Then she left of her own free will." 

"Would seem so." 

Megan uttered a heartfelt 'bugger' under her breath. "I better call the Captain." 

"Wait! Don't ... don't ...". Blair grasped Megan's wrist. 

"Sandy, I have to. I'll just say she's gone and there's evidence of someone having been here." 

"Can't you... wait. 'Til we try to find her?" 

Jim disengaged Blair's hand from Megan's arm. "Go ahead and call in, Megan." 

"Jim?!" 

"She has to, Chief. It's her duty." 

From her side of the call, it was apparent that Simon was considering issuing an APB for Naomi. Blair pulled away from Jim and began to pace around the room, hands flipping his hair. At Jim's request, Megan handed over the phone before she disconnected. 

"Sir, given the time and all, Blair and I will book off now and see you in the morning." The Captain agreed and the call ended. 

"Jim, look, I'll...ah..." An indecisive Megan was odd. 

"It's ok, Connor. Go on ahead. We'll be fine." 

"All right, but if you hear from her..." 

"We'll let you know." He walked with her to the door. "Goodnight." 

"'Night, Jim. Sandy...I...'night." With an unhappy frown, she left. 

* * *

Blair stared at Jim. "What did Simon say? Was he mad?" 

Jim knew he could not repeat Simon's gruff 'flighty bird' comment. "No. He wants us in early tomorrow. He is in a difficult position. Can't be seen giving favourable treatment to someone who is a relative of a PD employee. That is why Megan has the case, Chief. Simon knows we would handle it properly but he knows too that the appearance of favouritism is as damaging as real favouritism. Still, he wants us to be at the meeting with the DA tomorrow afternoon." 

Blair mumbled something that he would not repeat. 

"Look, we've got some time here. Why don't you relax while I take care of supper? Thought I'd do that seafood soup you like. Got to go out and get some stuff." 

"I'll come too." Blair started toward the coat rack. 

"No. Stay in case she phones. Ok?" 

"Oh Sure. Ah, don't forget to pick up garlic. Mom said we were out." His voice ran out at the end of the sentence. "Got it. I'll be back as quick as I can. Going to be fine, babe. I promise." 

"Hmm." The tone said he knew Jim was trying to make him feel better with promises that Jim couldn't really make. The Sentinel's last view as he left was of Blair wandering around the loft again. 

* * *

In an hour he was back, all his purchases made at speed. As he entered the loft he could hear Blair digging in something in his old room. He left him to it. 

Another hour to put the soup together, simmer the tomatoes, fennel bulb, wine and stock and then at the end, to add the fish, clams and mussels. A loaf of crusty bread cut up and the meal was ready. They ate largely in silence, other than Blair's quiet compliment on the soup. The younger man got through one bowl but refused the second helping he usually had when Jim made the soup. Blair washed the dishes quickly and, declining Jim's invitation to watch the Jags game on TV, headed back into his former bedroom. 

Jim's enjoyment of the game was affected by Blair's absence. He kept extending his hearing to check on his lover. It seemed he was sorting through a box of books or papers. Old, long packed from the smell of dust. A few mumbled words, too low and unarticulated for even Sentinel ears. Not happy sounding. Though he tried to concentrate on the game, Jim realized after missing several scoring plays that it was no use. He punched the off button on the remote and grabbed his half-finished beer bottle from the coffee table. 

He wandered over to the half open french doors and peered in. Blair was seated, cross-legged, on the floor in front of a cardboard carton. Jim recognized the carton as one that had arrived with Naomi. The floor around the box and the surface of the bed were littered with books, papers, a small carved wooden box, and in the midst of it all, a ragged stuffed toy of indeterminate colour and form. His lover's face was bent forward over a long black photo album of a type popular before Blair was born. 

Jim leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for a break in Blair's concentration. Before long he lost himself in savouring this quiet aspect of his lover, taking his time to inventory. The curve of Blair's back and shoulders, the way his shoulder blades showed through his shirt. The long line of his spine disappearing into his jeans. The roundness of his upper buttocks and the bunched strength of his thighs, pushing against the soft material of the well-worn jeans. The clever, square hands and the clean lines of his forearms. The sharp angle of his elbows, resting on his knees and the muscular bulge of his upper arms leading back to his shoulders. Jim wished, not for the first time, that he could draw what he was studying, that he had a skill that would let him put in concrete form what a photo could not catch. 

Blair tilted his head farther forward, to stare at some photo, and his hair following, bared the nape of his neck. The scent of the warm skin there was freed and Jim took it in. The aroma that was his lover flowed through him. He wanted to put his mouth there, to taste the salty essence overlaying the elemental flavour of Blair. 

Quite without thought, he straightened up and padded forward. The movement or some sound caught Blair's attention and he peered up through the curtain of his hair. From the look in Blair's eyes and the change in his body's tension, Jim knew his lover read Jim's intent immediately. But the response in Blair's face was a need other than lust. 

Jim shoved the panther back. Gesturing with the beer bottle still in his hand, "What's all this Chief?" 

"Stuff from Aunt Miriam's place. From when I was a kid. Mom thought I might like to have it here." 

Jim stepped over the piles and settled on the edge of the futon bed. "Mmm?" 

"Mom keeps stuff at Aunt Miriam's. Travel light but..." 

"But have a hidey hole for the treasures." 

"Yah." A soft sigh. 

"So, got any more pictures of you as a kid, there?" They both were remembering the photo album Naomi had shown Jim nearly two years ago now. 

"Some. But these are..." he looked down at the page he had open, "mostly before me. Mom's friends, see?" He turned the album so Jim could see the pictures too. "Found some of Jerome Agel." He pointed to a picture of a half dozen young people, "That's Agel there." A young man, taller than the rest, with a head of thick reddish hair, grinning at the camera. Blair pointed to another picture. "With Mom." 

Agel had his arm around a very young but unmistakable Naomi. A pregnant Naomi. The inscription below that picture said 'Spring, 1969, Berkley, Jerome at graduation.' Agel seemed to be in his early 20's, energy and virility and delight shining from his face. A thought. 

"Ah, Blair, is Agel your...?" The look on Blair's face stopped his words. 

"No. I don't ...think so. No." He closed the photo album and held it against his stomach. "I wish I knew where she was. That she's ok." 

"We'll find her, babe. We will." He reached out and ran his fingers across a tense shoulder and onto the nape of Blair's neck, caressing gently. 

"Do we...if we know she's ok, do we need to find her?" 

Jim did not want to answer the question. "Tell me about her and Agel." 

"I ...that's her ... I don't think I should." 

"What?" 

"It's her business." 

"Blair, we have a situation here. We need to resolve it. Is there anything you can think of that would help?" 

"Yah but it's not our case anymore. It's Megan's job to find her." 

"Whatever we find out, we give to Megan. It not being our case doesn't matter." 

Blair frowned, "What about my responsibility to my Mom? Do I just forget that? No. I can't, man. She, she..." 

Jim said very softly, "You need to consider where your responsibility is. You can't be a cop if you can't recognize the simple truth of that." 

Blair was on his feet. "Damn it, I'm not a cop! Simon keeps telling me that...and you too." 

"He hasn't said that since you became a paid consultant for the department." Jim stood up slowly, hating that Blair backed away. "And I have not said that for a long time. You signed on and what's expected in return is being part of the team." 

"I can't just stop being her son! I'm not like you...turning my feelings on and off!" His tone was sharp, cutting. Jim recoiled as if struck and felt himself pull back emotionally. Blair's face fell as he realized what he had said. "Oh, damn, man... I'm... I didn't mean that... you're just better at keeping... a professional detachment when you have to. Oh, Jim. I'm sorry." 

The bigger man put up one hand and backed to the doorway. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Back taut, he moved through his bedtime routine visiting the bathroom and checking doors and windows before walking stiffly up the stairs. 

Throughout, he could hear that Blair had not moved from the middle of the downstairs bedroom. That he stood stock still cursing himself softly until Jim got into bed. Then the sound of the mess on the floor being repacked and footsteps across the front room and part way up the stairs. The younger man paused and then continued the rest of the way up. 

Jim had not turned the bedside light off knowing that to do so would be the same as closing a door in Blair's face. He had promised himself not to do that, whatever happened between them. He did, however, lay very still, eyes almost closed. 

Blair shed his jeans and shirt and padded around to his side of the bed. The comforter was already turned back. He climbed in and settled himself. Neither spoke as Jim reached over and snapped off the light. 

After several minutes, a soft "I'm really sorry, Jim" and his answering "I know" before Jim rolled to his back and put out one hand to touch Blair's chest. When Blair did not move, Jim put one hand back toward him and tapped his arm. It was enough; his lover slid over to spoon against Jim's chest, Jim's arm snaking around the Guide's waist. Even with the comfort of that embrace, Blair did not relax nor fall asleep. It was going to take more that an embrace. 

Jim slipped one hand up along Blair's chest, feeling the light rasp of hair against his finger tips. Softer than he would have imagined the first time he saw all that hair. A swirl over one brown nipple and down across the ridges of abdominal muscles. A soft sigh from Blair and the body that was tense when Jim started the caress was relaxing back against his chest, that pert behind snugging into Jim's groin. 

Nudging his face under the hair at Blair's nape, he nuzzled into the fragrant skin and inhaled the scent that was his lover. Jim extended his tongue to swipe behind that ear, finding the spot that made Blair groan every time. Yah there it was, that sound that went right to Jim's groin without fail. His cock began to rise, pressing into the crack between those firm buttocks. A little rock forward that Blair rolled back into, catching Jim's rhythm. 

A slow and steady movement, Jim was aiming for a long and slow seduction to orgasm. To build up intended to leave Blair begging. And completely drained when it was over. 

One hand slid down from that stomach to the belly button, rubbing round before delving in. Round and in, around and in. Blair was moaning now, rotating his hips with the circling finger and thrusting back with the inward penetration. Just a little movement but enough to raise the temperature. Even his moans followed the pattern of movement, enticing Jim on. 

"Please,please,oh please" from Blair. But not intense enough. 

He thrust twice, hard, against Blair's ass as his hand pressed just above his lover's cock. Then a quick twisting slip down that hot slick rising shaft before drawing his hand away entirely. Another thrust and jerk, another, and then several moments of nothing. Blair groaned at the loss of the sensations and wriggled back toward Jim, who had rolled away. 

"Come on, come on!" as a protest before a long moan as Jim returned and wrapped his arms around Blair from behind. He ran both hands down Blair's body to cup his hip bones. A turn of the wrist and fingers brushed through pubic hair to the base of his cock. Gentle touches, barely there, had his beloved writhing back and forth, trying to reach one and then the other teasing hand. 

"Oh, Jim, oh, god, oh god, please." 

Left hand moved beneath the erect penis to cup quivering balls, rolling them gently. Right hand curved around the base of hot, red and slick shaft, thumb and ring finger meeting below. A clench and two quick up/down movements. 

"Yessss," hissed his lover. 

Up higher, to just below the flare of the tip, and down again, repeating the motion faster and harder each time, until Blair was thrusting up as the hand came down. His head was banging back onto Jim's shoulder as he thrashed about. 

Suddenly, back arching, body frozen in extremis, Blair cried out his pleasure and spilled his seed over Jim's hand. After a moment, he collapsed back into Jim and sighed deeply, "oh yes, that was...that was..." and without a further word, Blair dropped into sleep. 

Using tissues from the bedside table, Jim tenderly cleaned his lover and settled him down on the bed. His own hand cleared and his body cradling Blair, he tugged the covers over them and drifted into sleep to the beat of the Guide's heartbeat. 

* * *

Captain Simon Banks tapped his pen on the desktop, as if trying to get the last of the ink down to the tip. Jim recognized it as one of the ways Simon used to gain some thinking time. He had already used one of his other techniques: getting all three of them coffee. Jim sipped some of the mocha java now that it had cooled sufficiently for his tongue. Blair's cup sat untouched on the table. 

The morning up until now had been long and frustrating. They both had slept in and that threw off their morning routine. Distracted by his worry about Naomi, Blair had let the eggs burn at breakfast and then singed his hand when trying to cool off the pan. At the PD, they both threw themselves into the other cases Jim had been assigned. Nothing special, just slogging police work. Going out and interviewing some witnesses. Reviewing reports. Entering records in the PD's computer system. Blair was trying to focus on the work but he was not himself. Several reports had to be redone after he closed off without saving them. Jim saved Blair's favourite coffee by catching it as Blair swept it and some papers off his desk with a grunt of frustration. 

Now they were sitting at the table in Simon's office waiting for Megan Connor to finish with the telephone call she was making, using the time to discuss their other cases. Jim and Simon were trying to bring real interest to those cases but Blair sat slumped in his chair, leaving his partner to talk. The Captain glanced at him once or twice and raised his eyebrows at Jim who replied with a small shake of his head. As Jim finished, Megan entered. 

"Sorry, sir. I have been trying to speak to that man for three days. The Larson case. " 

"It's all right, Connor. Take a seat. Coffee?" Banks half turned toward the coffee maker. 

"Ah, no thank you, sir. Had too much already." It was Megan's polite way of refusing a brew Jim knew she did not like. 

"Fine. Let's take a few minutes to bring me up to date on the Agel case. I don't want any surprises when we meet with the Assistant DA this afternoon." Simon's tone was curt. He had grumbled to Jim his irritation at being forced into dealing with the ADA at this stage in the investigation but with the Mayor's insistence and the Police Chief's agreement, he had no choice. "So anything new?" Simon glanced around the table. 

Megan took a breath. "Well, not from my side, sir. Not since we went to Jim and Blair's place and found Mrs. Sandburg gone." 

Blair mumbled, "MS Sandburg." 

"Right, Ms Sandburg. Clothes and suitcase gone. No sign of forced entry." 

"How about Dan Wolf or Serena?" 

"Ah, nothing new, sir. Dan hopes to have further information from Agel's doctor before the meeting." 

"Hmmp. Ellison, Sandburg, any word from Naomi?" 

Since Blair showed no inclination to speak, Jim shook his head. "Nothing, sir." 

"Any thoughts on where she might have gone. Sandburg?" His tone was a bit louder, as if trying to get Blair's attention. 

Blair straightened. "I have thought about it, sir. She does have a number of friends here in town. We gave Megan their names." 

"I am in the process of checking, sir. So far, no joy." She grimaced slightly. "Sorry, Sandy." 

He waved a hand at her as if to say it did not matter but he could not say the words. 

Banks frowned and worried at his cigar. "Anything else? No? The meeting with the Assistant DA is at 2 p.m. Let me know if anything significant happens before then." No one moved. "Ok people, we have work to do. Let's go do it. Out, out." He tried for his usual gruff persona but Jim could tell Simon was only going through the motions. 

"Very good, sir." Jim urged Blair up and out with a hand tap to his near shoulder. "Come on, Chief." He used a hand on Blair's upper back to direct him out of the office and at the same time to express his own feelings to the younger man. 

A sigh, as they reached their desks. "Ok. Ah, I guess I should check with DMV on that partial licence plate." 

"Right, Chief. I'll do a search on the name Mrs. Clandon gave us. Then we should get some lunch." 

Blair tapped quickly at his computer's keyboard. 

Jim's fingers clicked into the PD's database and entered the name. While he waited for the search to be completed, he glanced over at Megan. She was on the phone, working through the names on the list they had given her. Jim couldn't help listening in on the call. He heard the voice on the other end of the line report not having seen Naomi within the last several months. She thanked the man and dialled again. Same response there. That was all the names on the list. Damn, where was that blasted woman! 

A beep on his computer brought his attention back to the completed search: four possibles. He hit the print key and went over to the bullpen's communal printer. The results of Blair's own search were printing, at least 25 vehicles of the type reported with that partial licence plate. They were going to be doing some running around on this one. Once his own list printed, he carried all the sheets back to Blair's desk. 

"Here we are, Chief. Quite a batch. Any matches between the two?" 

Blair scanned the short list and then ran his eyes down the longer one. "No, no, don't see anything...wait, a couple of possibilities." 

"Ok, well, it's 12:30. Let's get lunch. We won't have time to do much on this before that meeting with the DA." 

"Not too hungry, man. I could just do some..." He pushed at the papers covering his desk. 

"Grab your jacket. Haven't you told me innumerable times, regular meals are important? Funny how you never seem to apply that to yourself. And I need you to make sure I don't go to Wonderburger. " At the look in Blair's eyes, his voice dropped its teasing tone. " If nothing else, you need a break from this place." Jim didn't wait for Blair to get up but passed him the red corduroy jacket. 

Blair rose, slipped into his jacket and followed the big cop out of the station. 

* * *

"I think we all know why we are here, Captain Banks. Political prominence, especially in an election year, makes us all...wary. I appreciate you making yourself and your officers available today. In my mind, this is a courtesy heads-up to our office. My comments, if I make any, would simply be advice given in the same vein." 

Assistant District Attorney Angela Martin was a woman of no small reputation as intelligent and astute and while politically aware, apparently without the cynical self-interest demonstrated by some of her colleagues in the District Attorney's office. Jim wondered whether she had any ambition to become the District Attorney. He had heard from a friend in the DA's office that whatever her ambitions, she was savvy enough to know there were those who would love to see her fall flat on her face. The Agel case might just be the kind of landmine to destroy an aspiring politician. 

She glanced around the table at the six other attendees. "I see it will be a fulsome briefing." She laid her brief case on the table, extracted a slim notebook and pen. "Shall we begin?" 

Simon waited until they were all settled. "Initial investigation of this case was handled by Detective Ellison here and his partner Blair Sandburg. However, once it became apparent that Mr. Sandburg's mother, Naomi Sandburg, had interacted with Mr. Agel the day before his body was found, I reassigned the case to Inspector Megan Connor." Mrs. Martin nodded but said nothing. 

Simon sat back, fiddling with his pen in the same way he normally fiddled with his cigar. "Inspector, if you would run through what we have so far." 

Megan opened the file in front of her. "Yesterday morning around 9 a.m., Mr. Jerome Agel was found, deceased, in his bed at the Bayview Inn by the room maid. The manager notified the Department and Detective Ellison and his partner were dispatched to determine if there were any circumstances to warrant further police investigation." No one needed to be told that Agel's prominence was the reason for the unusual involvement of Major Crimes in what was likely a routine situation. 

"Mr. Agel had apparently ingested an herbal tisane...ah," she paused but continued when Mrs. Martin waved a hand to say she understood, "an herbal tisane brewed in the kitchenette of his room. Forensic evidence," with a nod to Serena Chang and Dan Wolf, "confirms that. Packets from a local Chinese herbalist were found in the trash basket by the bed. Detective Ellison and Mr. Sandburg questioned the herbalist. She described the person who had purchased the packets yesterday afternoon and noted that she had given the buyer or tried to give her a warning about the dangers of the particular herbs." Megan read the description of the purchaser drawn from Jim's notebook and continued, "Detective Ellison and Mr. Sandburg went to speak to Ms Sandburg. " 

Angela Martin turned to Jim. "Why would you seek out Ms Sandburg at that time?" 

Blair spoke first. "I wanted to be the one to tell her about Agel. Didn't want her learning of his death on the TV or from the papers. They are... were friends for a long time." 

"So you were not speaking to her as a witness?" 

Jim put a hand on Blair's arm. "Not immediately. But she volunteered that she had seen him the day before. She also confirmed that she was the one who purchased the herbs locally and brewed the tisane. All at Agel's request." 

"Hmmm. Please continue, Inspector." 

"The autopsy results indicate Mr. Agel died of a heart attack. Given the strength of the tisane mixture, Dr. Wolf", a nod toward the pathologist, "spoke to Mr. Agel physician and both of them agree the tisane could have brought on the attack. Mr. Agel had a weak heart and was supposed to be taking prescribed medication. None of it was found in his effects." She shuffled a few papers. "Of note is that Mr. Agel had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer and that he refused treatment that would have extended his life ...slightly." Megan closed the file. 

"Detective, did you have this information about Mr. Agel's medical condition when you spoke to Ms Sandburg? Did you ask her about it?" 

"No, ma'am." Jim kept his answer to the point. 

"Have you spoken to her since about possible reasons Mr. Agel may have wished to end his life now? Whether he mentioned it and sought her help?" 

The room held its breath, no one having expressed these thoughts aloud but all of them having had them. Jim heard Blair's heart stutter and saw his face pale but the younger man did not move or say anything. 

His hands clenched firmly in front of him, Simon answered. "No. Ms. Sandburg's current whereabouts are not known." 

Martin's eyes flicked to Blair and back to Simon. "The evidence you have might suggest suicide but is not conclusive from my perspective. Ms Sandburg's further questioning is critical. As you already have concluded. I would not like to speculate on any charges that might be warranted without hearing further from Ms Sandburg." She reached down to her briefcase and replaced the notebook. Jim noticed that she had made no notes but had doodled a sketch of Blair, a rather accurate likeness. "I don't think there is anything more to say, Captain, until Ms Sandburg is found and questioned. Thank you for a comprehensive briefing." 

She rose, shook the Captain's hand and Megan's and nodded to the others around the table. With a look at Blair that Jim could only interpret as compassion, she left them. 

Simon glanced at Blair but turned fully to Megan. "Better make that an APB, Connor, my authorization. Ellison, Sandburg, do you have any other ideas where...?" 

"No, sir, we have been trying but have come up with any other possibilities than the ones we already gave Connor." Jim stood almost at attention. 

"All right. Serena, Dan, thank you for attending. And for the speed with which you have dealt with this." Banks moved back behind his desk. The pathologist and the head of the forensics unit headed back to their own work areas. Blair was half way back to his desk, Simon watching him with a concerned expression. 

"Jim, ah, Sandburg, is he...?" 

"We're fine, sir. We'll be checking with some witnesses this afternoon sir, the Yalden case. Take us couple of hours. Ah, we would appreciate knowing if Naomi is found." 

"Yes, of course. Look, finish with your witnesses and then head home." 

"Right, sir. And thank you for letting us sit in." 

"Hmmpt." Simon dug his unlit cigar out of his desk drawer and sticking it in his mouth, pulled out some papers from another file. Jim was going to say something else but the Captain waved him toward the door. 

* * *

All the way to where the Ford Ranger was parked in the PD garage, Blair was quiet but Jim could tell his lover was worrying at something, waiting for Jim's prompting to express it. His usual approach when really worried. When they were settled, Jim rested his arms on the steering wheel and looked over. 

"Tell me." 

It burst out in a rush. "They're going to charge her in his death. They're going to arrest her and lock her up and I won't be able to do anything about it. She won't understand. Won't accept. We have to find her. Please, Jim, can we try again? I can't just leave her to...I know Megan will be ok but an APB! Some rookie uniform might see her, arrest her, handcuff her and...". 

He wound down and stopped, the horror of what he was imagining even too much for words. His eyes pleaded with Jim and there was no denying him. 

One long-fingered hand cupped Blair's cheek. "Easy, babe. First, she is being sought as a possible witness. No one is going to arrest her for that. If they find her, she'll come to Major Crimes ... or Megan might choose to talk to her wherever she is. Your Mom knows Megan, she'll be fine with her." 

"But..." 

"And we are going to do some work ourselves on finding her." 

"But the witnesses, won't Simon expect us to be seeing them?" In spite of his words, Blair had brightened at Jim's comment. 

"We are doing both. Our witnesses work in adjacent shops. You'll talk to one, I to the other. Take less than half an hour. Then we work on finding the elusive Naomi. Ok?" 

A deep breath. "Yah. Thanks. Sorry about that panic." 

"I understand. I'd feel the same way." 

He started the truck and drove them to the neighbourhood where Manfred Yalden had been beaten and robbed. It took them less than the predicted 30 minutes since neither witness had a lot of information to relate. The partners met back at the truck and compared notes. 

"Got some consistent details here, Jim. And a good description of the perp. Even, a more complete licence plate number." 

"Call in the plate and vehicle description to Sally. Ask her to run it and leave the printout for us." 

"Right. So now?" 

"Thought we'd run by the loft and see if there was any sign." 

"Good idea." Blair perked up more, relieved to be doing something concrete about Naomi and making Jim glad he'd made the suggestion. Blair picked up the cell phone, dialled the PD. 

A short conversation with Sally and they had reached Prospect. Up the stairs to the loft, too impatient to wait for the slow elevator, and down the hallway. Jim opened the door but stepped aside and let his Guide burst in. "Mom? Mom, are you here? Mom?" No reply. Blair darted into the downstairs bedroom and stood staring and disappointed. A soft 'damn'. 

Jim watched him for a moment until the flashing of the message light on the phone caught his attention. He strode to it and entered the code, selecting speaker mode. A familiar voice filled the silence. 

"Sweetie, it's me." 

At that, Blair whirled from the doorway of his old room. "Mom? Where...?" 

Jim waved a shushing hand. 

"... mean to frighten you. I'm fine, really." The sound of her voice changed as if she turned away from the handset and made something like a hiss, then back to, "Sweetie, I am with friends but it is best if you don't know where. Not good if you have to lie to Jim. They say that it is a bad thing if you want a relationship to last. And baby, I am so happy for you... truly...being with Jim. His aura is so pure, so uncontaminated. I know he loves you deeply and will protect you. Though he does get you into so many dangerous situations...but, I am letting that go. So, honey, I don't want you to worry. I'll be fine. It won't be long before all this blows over and I can see you again. I love you. Hugs to Jim. Bye." A click. 

Blair stood staring at the machine. "Oh Mom! It won't just go away! How are we going to find you?", his voice all sad and frustrated at the same time. His eyes closed slowly and he bowed his head. 

Jim could barely stand the pain he saw. `Damn her! She has done it to him again! Doesn't she ever think of him?' He reached out and cupped the nape of Blair's neck, caressing up into his hair. 

His lover turned, eyes and face in distress, "What do we do now?" 

"There was something there, Chief. In the background. Voices near the phone. Run it again, would you?" 

That seemed to draw Blair from his despair. "Voices? Let me turn the sound up on this." He adjusted the volume control and had the message repeat, left hand moving to Jim's back. Between that hand and Jim's fingers lost still in Blair's hair, the Sentinel was grounded. Naomi's voice began again, Jim listening closely. 

This time he heard her say clearly "Shusshh!" and then, filtering out Naomi's voice, another woman in the background, "Hush, Derek. Come here and let her speak!" And a man, "Oh, please, Clarice, it's important she doesn't say anything to give her location away!" The woman, "Der, my love, she won't. Would you, Ni? Derek, come over here!" The recording ended. 

"Once more, Chief." On the second replay, Jim concentrated on trying to get location clues. In the deep background, the sound of street traffic and closer, of people walking by. A snatch of 'just around here, on Varley...', a train passing and the high-pitched squeals of a bunch of children playing. As he listened, Jim started to feel himself slip into the sounds, losing where he was until Blair's left hand began to rub across his back. The recording ended again and Jim's hand slipped from Blair's hair to pat his back. 

"Ok. She's with some people called Derek and Clarice. A couple from the sounds of it and friends, not kidnappers." 

"Damn! Of course, the Jordans. I should have remembered!" Blair took a breath and calmed. "Friends from her anti-war protest days. They moved here recently, I think. Mom said something about calling them. How could I have forgotten?!" 

"A few other things on your mind. Where do they live?" 

"I don't know. She didn't say." 

Jim was flipping through the new phonebook, delivered just the week before. "No one named Derek and Clarice under Jordan. How recent?" 

Blair shook his head. "Sorry, man. But we could try..." 

Together, "Directory assistance." 

Jim dialled. "This is Detective James Ellison, Cascade Police Department, badge number 714. I need a new listing and address for Derek and Clarice Jordan." He gestured to Blair for pen and paper. "Hhmm, might not be in Cascade proper." Jim's eyes focussed on Blair's face, seeing a man feeling better in action. "Yes? 2034 Oldman Sideroad. Telephone 555-5678. Thank you." 

After disconnecting, Jim hit a few buttons on the phone and heard "Sent today at 3 p.m., a new message from 555-4567. 2 minutes 15 seconds." 

"What I thought, Chief, not a call from the Jordans' own phone. Sounded like outside, a public phone. Train in the background, traffic, kids playing. Dial Sally again and get her to give us a location." He handed the phone over. 

"Right," Blair dialled and while he waited, "We're going to find her." Quiet but relieved. 

"You bet, Chief." 

"Ah, Sally, Blair Sandburg again. No, not that case. We need a location on a phone. 555-4567. Likely a public phone. I'll hang on." To Jim again, "Why did she run away? I ...she should have known better." 

Jim was thinking that Naomi had a pattern of running from responsibilities, from accepting consequences and blame but none of that could he say to Blair. "Let's just wait 'til we talk with her." 

"Yes, of course...Sally? Didn't get that... Hazeldean Mall on Robertson? Got it, thanks." He hung up. "So now, we go find her?" 

"Yup." Jim told himself they had to make sure they were right about this before contacting Megan or Simon. That he was not contravening his duty. 

They were down into the truck and underway in seconds, Blair energized by their discoveries. On their way north out of Cascade, wending through the late afternoon traffic, things slowed down. The younger man, normally tensing at Jim's driving, was on this occasion, urging him to go faster. Small hand gestures directed other vehicles ahead of them aside. Barely heard murmurs protested the slowness of other drivers and invoked traffic lights to change in their favour. 

Jim wondered if Blair was fully aware of what he was doing. In an odd way, his behaviour reminded Jim of Incacha when the Chopec shaman had influenced the choice of partners in the hunting rituals: subtly but effectively controlling from the sidelines. Blair's own results seemed to be improving as they proceeded. For instance, at that last intersection, Jim could have sworn at least two vehicles succumbed to his partner's spiritual projections to get out of the straight-through lane. Jim shook his head. It had to be coincidence. Didn't it? With a grin, he wondered if Blair would be as eager to undergo tests of his shamanic powers as he had been passionate about testing Jim's Sentinel skills. 

Jim made a quick stop at the Hazeldean Mall, finding the public phone and in a few moments, testing what he needed. Back in the truck, almost before Blair got out, he had them back on their way to Oldman Sideroad. He was aware that Blair was staring at him. 

"Yes, Chief?" 

"What was that stop for, man? Did you think they might still be around there?" 

"No. Just wanted to be sure they had really used that phone, and not got fancy with transmission bouncing from another site. But her scent is all over that handset." At the lights, he glanced at his silent Guide. 

"You think my Mom would do something like that?" 

"Her friends might. Some sophisticated equipment available out there. Just don't want to arrive way out there, looking like an idiot if she has gone." 

"Ok, good." A pause. "Kind of a covert ops thing." 

"You might say that." Jim was pleased to see Blair's normal curiosity reappearing. 

Now away from the traffic of Cascade, Jim gunned the Ford along the winding two-lane highway. Blair grasped the edge of the dash in his usual manner and managed," If she's around, man, ah... this road is... do you need to... go so fast?" 

Another glance to his tensed passenger. "She might be preparing to leave, Chief. Been about an hour since that message. Not going to lose her now, not this close." He swerved slightly to avoid a dog ambling across the road and then braked and cornered, with a squeal of tires, onto Oldman Sideroad. "Ok, keep an eye out for 2034. Shouldn't be too far." 

But it was 5 minutes before Blair announced, "That was 2000, Jim." 

The truck slowed marginally and at the third lane way along, they swerved between two wooden posts, barely missing them, the truck fishtailing on the gravel lane. Long practice had Blair steadying himself as soon as Jim had jerked the wheel for the turn. 

The lane was lined with trees, obscuring what was on either side and leaving them in a soft gloom on this overcast day. Branches whipped at their passage. 

"Ah, Jim, can't we slow a bit? They can't get past us on this narrow lane." 

"Don't want to miss them in case there is another way out." Nevertheless, the speed of the truck eased back a little. As the road curved to the right, they suddenly came upon a stone and wood house of indeterminate age. It had a covered porch across the front. To its left were a barn and several smaller outbuildings. The tower of a windmill, likely for a well, over the barn roof. Beyond, open cultivated fields and pasture, divided by rough log fences. Jim could see some cows in the far field and nearer, sheep and goats. The cluck of hens and the aroma of horses. A significant woodpile in a lean-to near the house. It all said these people were focussed on self-sufficiency. Extending his hearing, Jim checked around the property. Human heartbeats only in the house, three of them, one of which was Naomi Sandburg. She was here. He thanked God. 

* * *

Blair saw the expression on Jim's face change to one of relief. Ready to leap out of the truck, he was restrained by Jim's right arm across his chest. 

"A second, Chief. Just let me check." Another check, this time with his sense of smell. No gun oil or gunpowder. "Ok. But easy." 

About to say more, he was forestalled by his lover swinging out of the truck. Blair was up on the porch at the door of the house as Jim was just closing the door of the Ranger. "Wait, Chief. Just a second. You know these people?" Jim was loosening his jacket where it covered the gun at the small of his back. A precaution only. 

"Vaguely. Derek and Clarice Jordan. Used to be bookstore owners, I think. This is not quite their style." 

"Ok, you take the lead on this. I'm your..." 

"Backup?" Jim's nod and Blair was surprised and pleased. A sharp return nod and he swung round to rap on the cedar-framed screen door. 

Jim could hear voices inside and steps coming to the door. They had been observed. A creak and the heavy wooden inner door opened. A middle aged man, grey well mixed through his dark hair, peered at them through wire-framed glasses. "Yes?" He was dressed in well-worn denim jeans and a grey sweater over an unbleached cotton shirt. Like any of the farmers around here, Jim thought. 

"I'm Blair Sandburg. My partner, Jim Ellison. I would like to see my mother, Naomi..." 

"Well, ah..." 

Firmly, "She is here. Please ask her to come to the door." 

"She doesn't want to..." 

"How about she tells me herself whether she wants to see her son or not!" Blair realized that all his frustration of the last 24 hours was being expressed in the assertiveness of his words. 

"Umm, just a moment." The door partly closed as the man turned to consult with the others in the house. They heard him say 'ok' before the door swung open and he gestured to them. "Come on in but," pointing to Jim, "he stays out here." 

"Sorry. My partner goes where I go." He didn't sound sorry at all. 

Jim was prepared to wait outside since he did not sense any danger in this situation and could monitor any conversation perfectly well from the porch. But if his partner wanted him there, he would follow his lead. Jim had to suppress a smile at how Blair was handling this. Not his usual conciliatory approach. Blair started into the house with a "Come on, Jim" in a tone that was an exact imitation of his own in similar circumstances. 

The man that Jim assumed was Derek Jordan just backed up. Jim gave him a quick assessing glance and gestured for Jordan to proceed him. They might be harmless but all his experience left Jim taking no chances. 

To the left of the front hall was a sitting room where Naomi stood with another woman who had to be Clarice Jordan. The other woman was around Naomi's age, had long thick hair and a warm, earth mother face. Her denim jumper and long-sleeve cotton blouse contrasted with Naomi's own softly flowing and well-cut dress. It seemed the city cousin was visiting the country cousins. 

"Mom? Why did you leave the loft without tell me where you were going?" 

Before Naomi could answer, Clarice put an arm around her friend's waist and explained, "That's our fault. We insisted she come with us. Away from the pigs and their fascist treatment of those who seek to act with love and compassion. You ought to know that, young Blair," with a hard glare at Jim, "though association with the pigs can contaminate the most right-thinking man. Especially when they use sexual seduction to influence the innocent!" 

Jim stared, caught between dumbfounded and amused. Blair cried out, "Mom! What have you been saying?" 

"Nothing, sweetie, really. Just that you and Jim are lovers..." Her voice was all puzzlement at his distress. 

"That's nobody's business but ours. How could you? I asked you..." 

"But Derek and Clarice wouldn't condemn you... well, not because Jim is a man, anyway. They encourage the breaking of stereotypes within a rigid hierarchy like the pi...police." She patted his arm and smile warmly at him. 

"Mom, you never listen!" 

Jim touched Blair's arm and murmured quietly, "Leave that, Chief. Agel." 

"Right, right." He took a deep breath. "Mom, I need to talk with you," a quick glance at the Jordans, "privately ...about Jerome Agel." 

Naomi froze, the teasing smile gone, her eyes vulnerable. 

Derek burst out, "Don't say anything in front of that cop, Ni!" 

Blair frowned at Jordan. "Which cop are you referring to, Jim or me?" 

"You're not a cop, sweetie," Naomi assured him. 

"I am as good as one. That's where I work now. Who I spend all my time with. Who I trust." The expression on Blair's face said he was surprised by his own words. As if he had had a sudden realization. 

"No, dear, you are a scientist, an academic...that's who you still are, for all that fuss..." 

Jim wanted to shake her and make her understand his anger about Blair's original dissertation but he held himself in check. 

"I am more than I was before I met Jim and began to work with the PD. I am not an academic anymore...not in the professional sense. But more, Mom." He took another long breath. "Now, alone, Mom. Please." 

"Ok, dear. Derek, Clarice, I need some time with my son." 

"We'll be close, Ni." Clarice pulled her husband along with her. She eyed Jim but he stood his ground. With a sniff, the Jordans left the sitting room and headed to the back of the house. Jim heard Clarice talk about serving some herbal tea to calm everyone down. 

Jim looked over at Blair. "I'll go out..." 

"No, man, we need to hear this together." 

Jim had heard the back door open. "Ok, just let me check on the Jordans." He hurried down the hallway and heard the couple outside. He moved forward to see what they were doing, keeping one ear attuned to what was going on in the sitting room. 

"Mom, tell me everything about Jerome Agel's trip here." She gave a small sigh and was about to speak when he interrupted her. "I mean everything. Start with how you knew to meet him at the airport. Did you come here knowing he was coming?" 

"He called me, of course." 

Jim pushed open the screen door onto the back porch. The couple looked up from sipping iced tea and Derek half rose from the bench set under the branches of an apple tree, about 10 feet from the back of the house. Jim waved him back and descended the steps toward them, drawn by the setting. He understood why they were out here, on the edge of a beautifully laid-out garden, half vegetables and half flowers. The scents were wonderful. 

Back inside, Blair continued. "Why did he come here?" 

"Why?" 

"Yes, why?" Blair was serious and expecting an answer. 

"He never said exactly. Just that he wanted to see me." Her voice said she was surprised by the way he was speaking to her. "The man is dead, Blair. Why do you need to know?" 

"Tell me." 

She whispered, "Are you going to tell Jim?" She had forgotten Jim's Sentinel hearing. 

"Don't do that. Tell me." 

"He knew I was coming here... to see you, sweetie... and that he could count on me." 

Cursing himself for his distraction in the garden, Jim sprinted back to the house. 

"Count on you to do what?" 

"To help him. He was unwell, dear and not everyone is willing to care for an unwell person." 

"Did you know what was wrong with him?" 

Before Naomi could speak, Jim darted into the room and put a hand on her arm. "Wait. Chief, we haven't warned her." 

"What, warned her?" 

"Her rights, Chief. Naomi, you should be aware that whatever you say might be used in a court hearing. Do you want to consult a lawyer? Think carefully, this is important." 

"Jim, this is silly." She rubbed his hand where it rested on her arm. 

"No, Naomi, it's not. Whatever you think about the police, we do try not to interfere in people's constitutional rights." 

Blair protested, "But man, we aren't in charge of this case." 

"No we aren't but if we heard anything that is pertinent, we would be duty bound to report it. Part of the job, Chief. I think we should call Megan and let her handle this. And get Naomi a lawyer if she wants one." 

Blair stared at Jim, his face all puzzled. "But we don't know there is any reason... I need to know, Jim. I need to know what happened." 

"I know, Babe but we have to be careful here. This is complicated enough." He waited until Blair nodded his agreement. "Naomi, you have two choices. We call Megan or you call Megan. Frankly it would be best for you to do it." 

"I don't want Derek and Clarice to get in trouble." 

"I don't think they will. None of you knew that we wanted to talk to you again." He smiled. "They are not hiding a fleeing criminal... however much they might like to think they are." 

She had the good grace to recognize Jim's comment as one intended to lighten the tension of the moment. "All right, I will call her. Right now?" 

Blair had pulled out his cell phone and was dialling. "Right now, Mom. Here, it's ringing." 

Naomi took the phone. "Megan, it's me, Naomi Sandburg. I understand you have some questions for me. Where shall we meet? Have you had supper? We could go... oh, yes, of course. I will be there soon. It will take us," at Blair's mouthed thirty minutes, "about half an hour. Yes, yes I will. Goodbye." She passed the phone back to her son. "She wants me at the police station. I better tell Derek and Clarice what is happening." 

"We know." The couple was standing in the doorway. Clarice came and hugged her friend. "Are you sure, Ni? That this is the best thing?" 

"Yes, dear. I am sure it is just a formality. Isn't it, sweetie?" 

Blair did not know what to say so Jim spoke. "At this point, it's a matter of figuring out what happened. We should get underway here, Naomi." 

"Of course, Jim. I will call you once this bit is over with, Clar. We'll go find that new age shop I know is in Cascade." She smiled sweetly and headed for the door. 

"Wait, Ni. Your suitcase. I run up and pack for you." Clarice hurried from the room. 

With a nod to the man, he followed Naomi. In a few moments, Clarice appeared with the suitcase and handed it over to Jim. Naomi said goodbye to the couple and joined Blair and his partner at the Ranger. 

"Oh, I haven't ridden in a truck like this since ...well, since right after you were born, sweetie." 

She pulled open the passenger door and popped up on the seat. She looked for all the world like a regal lady among commoners, so out of place in their world. 

Jim got in and once they were all comfortable, headed the truck down the lane. 

* * *

The conversation with Megan Connor had been a convoluted web of half statements and partial answers given under the close eye of a lawyer whom Jim had called on Naomi's behalf. The lawyer, David Fadden, tried as best as he could to have his reluctant client co-operate without incriminating herself. But he was thoroughly frustrated within a short while. 

After two hours, Simon Banks called a halt. Based on a call to the Assistant District Attorney, he arranged they get together with her the next morning. Jim thought Simon's idea was to let Mrs. Martin to conclude whatever she could from listening to Naomi being questioned rather than trying to summarize the evidence she gave. 

Simon allowed Naomi to go home with Jim and Blair on her word that she would not disappear again. In exchange, Naomi demanded assurance that Derek and Clarice would not get in trouble. His patience long since run out, Simon just stared at her, his cigar clenched firmly between his teeth. Moving between them, Blair swore that his mother would be there next morning and drew her from the office. Jim thanked Fadden for coming and quietly expressed his regret at the difficulty of his client. The man nodded ruefully and with a look seemed to be commiserating with them about dealing with the woman, headed home. Jim thought a double scotch was likely on Fadden's mind. 

The ride home to the loft was quiet, even Naomi seeming to realize that the tension in her son and his partner needed some time to dissipate. The three of them worked at getting supper ready and ate with no conversation, until Naomi started to comment on the efforts by Derek and Clarice to live away from what they saw as the corruption of mainstream society and its reliance on technology. It started to sound like a back-to-nature lecture from the 1970's. 

"You know, they have been able to raise almost everything they need to eat, except wheat or rice. Fruit and vegetables, all their own. Naturally they do not eat red meat though that pond out back does supply sufficient fish for protein. And eggs from the chickens and milk from the cows. Derek is getting quite good at making cheese. Wool from their sheep and goats, for Clarice to weave. She was talking about trading some of their produce for some cotton cloth, rather than purchasing ready-made clothes. " 

Blair looked up from his supper. "Why come here? Why not pick someplace with a milder, warmer climate? Somewhere further south." 

"Derek is very concerned about global warming and droughts. All those problems of water shortage in California and elsewhere." 

"No shortage of rain here," mumbled Blair, an echo of his plaintive 'cold and wet is my world'. 

"Then there is the Pacific Northwest's isolation from the chemically intensive farming perpetrated by the large agricultural consortia. The ecologically destructive use of pesticides and artificial fertilizers. Honey, it is so pervasive." 

Somewhat dryly, Jim observed, "I do believe the farmers of Washington also use chemical pesticides and fertilizers. Agreed that we do not have any lack of water. The mountains catch those high clouds." He rubbed his chin. "Mixed blessing though, what with the volcanoes among the mountains. Active ones that have spewed out a pretty nauseous mix of sulphur and ash. Long run the ash might add nutrients but short term, devastating on plant and animal life including the humans that depend on them." He glanced at Naomi. "Derek and Clarice take that into account?" 

The surprise on Naomi's face at Jim's cogent and knowledgeable contribution to the conversation slowly shifted, her eyes narrowing, as if assessing whether he was being nasty or not. After a moment, with no perceivable resolution to that question, she rose and announced she was tired. "Goodnight, sweetie. Jim." This last accompanied by a slightly tight smile. She disappeared into Blair's old bedroom. 

After they cleared the dishes and washed up, Jim and Blair went up to bed too. They did not talk, just undressed and got into bed. Jim lay awake for an hour or so, listening to Blair trying to go to sleep. In the end, he pulled the tense body in close and caressed the taut back until Blair sighed and slipped into sleep. That seemed to prompt Jim to fall asleep too. 

* * *

In the morning, Blair had to insist Naomi not start a session of meditation right after breakfast, something Jim never thought he would have heard. "Mom, we are due at the station at 10 this morning. You really don't have time." 

"There is always time for meditation, honey." 

"No, there isn't." He paused. "You know that your sessions are getting longer and longer, way longer than I can do. But haven't you said how awful you feel if you come out of a session before you have achieved the appropriate spiritual balancing?" His eyebrows raised. The words seemed to do it. Naomi chose instead to have a long shower, using up most of the hot water but was ready to go at 9:30. 

When they arrived at the door to Captain Bank's office ten minutes before the hour, David Fadden, Naomi's lawyer, was sitting there, chatting to Simon. Since the Assistant District Attorney was yet to arrive, Fadden rose and asked Naomi to speak with him privately. Simon offered the break room, currently unoccupied. She looked at Blair who gestured at her to follow the lawyer. 

Megan, caught up in a telephone call at her desk, waved a hand at Jim and Blair but stayed with her call. Blair pulled Jim aside, out toward a quiet corner and murmured loud enough only for his Sentinel to hear. "Are you... will you use your...I know you can tell when someone is lying. Will you be noting Mom's reactions when she is questioned?" 

"Hard not to, when I am focussed on someone." He had an idea of what was coming and he did not want to be asked. 

"Ok. I understand that. But will you report what you note?" 

"Are you asking me if I am going to act as a lie detector during Naomi's interview?" 

Blair had the grace to blush but he still said, "Yes." 

"I will do my job, Blair. It's who I am. But, let's face it, I can't exactly announce to the room that from all the physiological indications, she has lied in answering a question. Of course, if Simon asks me privately, I will not withhold what I perceived. You should know that about me. It's about duty." He stared intently into Blair's face. "It is what I would expect of you too." When there were no more questions, Jim turned and walked back to Simon's office. As he entered, he looked back: Blair stood staring after him, his face uncertain. In the next moment, Mrs. Martin arrived and Blair went to the break room to let Fadden and Naomi know. 

As soon as all the players were in his office, Simon gave out cups of his coffee of the day, something with mocha in it, Jim noted. When everyone was seated, "I would like to begin with the questioning of Ms Sandburg. There are a number of areas that we were unable to clarify last night." As Mr. Fadden began to object, Simon raised his hand. "I have no desire to interfere in Ms Sandburg's rights but ... perhaps with some time for private reflection since last night, Ms Sandburg may have some further information to share that will assist us. Mrs. Martin, anything you would like to say at this point?" 

The Assistant District Attorney had been studying Naomi with a thoughtful expression. "Thank you, Captain Banks. I would only remind everyone that the purpose of this meeting is to understand what happened to Jerome Agel. I hope that we can work in co-operation to that end." She nodded to Simon. 

"Mr. Fadden, anything?" 

"Nothing at this time, thank you Captain." 

"Good, let's get started. Inspector." He sat back in his chair and put on a neutral face. 

Megan opened her file and drew out a paper. She glanced at Naomi and picked up a pen. Jim could hear Blair's own breath becoming shallow. He moved his left foot over until it brushed against Blair's right one. In a moment, Blair slid slightly toward Jim so that their thighs touched and he relaxed, his breathing going to a more normal rate. 

"Ms Sandburg...." 

"Please, call me Naomi." 

"All right, Naomi, yesterday, you explained to us that you purchased ma huang and ginseng at a local Chinese herbal shop at Mr. Agel's request. And also at his request, you brewed them and other herbs he gave you into a tisane for him...yes?" 

"Yes, I explained that to Blair and to you." 

"Good. Now, what can you tell me about these herbs? How they affect the body when consumed in a tisane of the strength you made?" 

Mr. Fadden leaned forward, one hand moving on the table in front of Naomi. "I can not allow my client to answer that question. She is not a physician or pharmacist." 

Megan smiled at him. "I am not asking her as an expert but simply to establish what she might believe the effects would be from her knowledge gained in ordinary living. Naomi?" 

"As long as it is understood that she would not know with any certainty what those results might be." He slid his hand away and sat back. 

"Those herbs, ma huang and ginseng, they excite the body, increase the heart rate to enhance the cleansing flow of blood. Helps too with sexual performance and enjoyment, especially for men at ages like that of...Captain Banks." 

She smiled warmly at Simon. "Where that stimulation is needed." 

The Captain gave a discreet cough under which Jim heard him mumble, "Not this man!" 

Megan managed to keep a straight face. "Did Mr. Agel tell you why he wanted to drink such a mixture? Did he need it for ...?" She let her question trail off. 

"Well, not for sexual performance. He said he wanted to feel better." 

"I see. What did you know of his medical condition?" 

The smile on Naomi's face faded. "I knew...he told me about his cancer." She paused and took a breath. "That he was dying." 

"Any other medical condition?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Were you aware of his heart condition?" 

"Oh, yes, of course. Jerome has had a poor heart since his teens. An inherited weakness. But he managed well. It was under control with the medications he took." 

"Are you aware of the dangers to those with a heart condition like Mr. Agel's of ingesting ma huang especially when it is combined with ginseng?" 

Mr. Fadden spoke quickly. "Again, I raise an objection..." 

Naomi turned to him. "It's all right. I can..." 

"Ms Sandburg, please. My advice is worthless if you do not heed it." 

She patted his hand and turned to Megan. "I really could not say, dear." 

The lawyer sighed and shook his head. Blair, who had held his breath at the last question and during the exchange between Naomi and the lawyer, let the breath go. Megan twitched her shoulders as if uncomfortable. She pushed a few papers around before gathering them into a tidy pile again. Then she looked over at Naomi and held her eye for a long ten count. 

"Was Jerome Agel committing suicide by drinking that tisane?" 

The reaction in Naomi was startling. She paled and inhaled sharply, pushing back her chair until she was a full two feet from the table. However, she did not speak. 

"Could he not face the effects of the cancer and took this way out?" Megan's voice was almost expressionless. No answer but Naomi began to draw in on herself. Jim could hear her heart pounding and saw her eyes dilate in fear. 

Megan moved on relentlessly. "Did he ask you to help him die? Is that why he came here to Cascade?" 

Naomi exploded up from her chair. "No! No, he did not!" The words were a roar of anger. "He would never do that. You must not say he would do that!" She wrapped her arms around her body and staring intently at Megan. "You must not say he would commit suicide!" 

Calmly Megan asked, "Why mustn't we say he committed suicide?" 

Naomi moved back a step, startled by the question. 

More softly, "Why Naomi?" No other sounds in the room but breathing and heartbeats. They all waited. Fadden asked his client to sit, one hand around her wrist. His voice was calm but insistent. 

Naomi sat down again. "He... his family is Catholic, very orthodox in their faith. His mother... she would ...she would be so...how could she face that? That her son had broken the unbreakable rule? Had done what she had warned him so strongly against all his life? Jerome told me years ago that she believed suicide to be the worst thing a devote Catholic could do. A blow against God. Please, do not add that burden to their loss of him." 

Naomi had spoken with such passion, such supplication that Jim was struck to the heart. Never had he heard such intense emotion from her. Beside him, Blair had started to rise but Jim grasped his forearm under the edge of the table and held him down. His lover turned to him, the distress in his face expressing Jim's own hidden feelings. The Sentinel wanted to comfort Naomi but it was important that they not interfere in the questioning. He tried to convey all that to Blair with a small shake of his head and the rubbing of his thumb over Blair's captured arm. A grimace, a reluctant sharp nod of his head and Blair subsided into his chair. 

Megan's eyes showed her response to Naomi's appeal but her voice stayed calm. "You have said that Mr. Agel did not ask you to help him kill himself. You did know he was dying of cancer. Was he afraid?" 

"Of course he was. He was not fool and he did not deal with pain well. He was very afraid..." 

"I am sure you are a compassionate person. Might you have been tempted to relieve that terrible fear? To ensure that he would not face a painful death? Without his requesting you to do anything?" 

Blair inhaled sharply. He whirled around in his seat and glared at Megan. Jim's grip slid down to the younger man's wrist and tugged it now, trying to prevent him from doing anything to interrupt the questioning. 

Fadden leaned toward Naomi and whispered to her that she did not have to answer so speculative a question. This time, she seemed to be listening to him. She said nothing to Megan, just looked over at her with eyes that were bright with unshed tears. 

Megan waited a full minute before glancing to Simon Banks. At his nod, she closed her file. The Captain spoke quietly to Mrs. Martin, asking her if there was something she could say. She asked to see the medical reports again and took a few moments reviewing them. Then, pushing the papers back to Megan, she studied Naomi with an intense gaze. 

"This is a difficult situation for everyone. Including the one person who cannot be here to speak for himself, Jerome Agel. A brilliant mind and an amazing spirit. I have been listening to Ms Sandburg's answers to the Inspector's questions and in the light of the pathologist's medical evidence, the lab reports and what Mr. Agel's physician has said. A particular scenario keeps running through my mind." 

Jim felt Blair tensing and he rubbed his fingers around the strong wrist now loose in his hand. Naomi held herself so tautly Jim was concerned for her. 

"Jerome Agel came to Cascade to meet an old friend. Someone whom he trusted, someone who would not judge him or attempt to dissuade him from the course of action he intended to take. Naomi Sandburg. She did not fail him. She purchased the herbs he asked for and brewed them with other herbs he had brought with him into a tisane. 

"He knew that the tisane would induce cardiac arrhythmia and finally, a heart attack that would kill him. I suspect he had very carefully determined what dosage of ma huang and ginseng would be needed. The samples tested show that the most potent of the ma huang species was used. He also prepared himself by ceasing to take his heart medication. None of the drugs prescribed by his physician were found in his luggage. No sign of them in his blood. Drugs that had to be taken twice every day. 

"Why did he come to Cascade? Because of his mother's intense rejection of suicide. So that all that happened could be seen as an accident. He forgets to pack his heart medication. The tisane of herbs is mistakenly too strong. He is alone in a hotel when he drinks the tisane so there is no one there to call for help. Simply an accident. "Jerome Agel came to Cascade to take his own life but to make it appear an accident and he succeeded." She paused and looked over at Naomi who sat with tears flowing quietly down her face. "What role did Naomi Sandburg play beyond that described? Had he asked her to help him kill himself? She says he did not and I believe her. Because I do not think he needed to ask her with words. I believe she knew him so well that she knew without being told what he was doing. And she helped him do it. 

"What I have said is based on a very personal impression. A decision on whether charges should be laid will be made by the District Attorney's Office once we have had a chance to consider the evidence in depth. It is possible that the most we could expect from a hearing would be a judgement of accidental poisoning. I believe Jerome Agel may have come to that same conclusion. No judgement of suicide to distress his family. No serious legal danger to Ms Sandburg. 

"I know there are those who feel they should be able to help the terminally ill who, like Mr. Agel, face a terrible death, help them avoid that death. But that is against the laws of this state and indeed the laws of most of the states in this Union. The Supreme Court of the United States has upheld the laws against assisted suicide, most recently in the Glucksberg case, a case which originated in this very state. Society does not accept that suicide or efforts to assist suicide are proper. And neither do I. 

"The recommendation I will make in this case to the District Attorney will be based on what I believe could be proved but the decision to prosecute or not prosecute will be his. Until I know his views, I would ask Ms Sandburg not to leave Cascade. I leave Captain Banks to take whatever steps he feels appropriate in this regard. 

"On a personal note, I hope that Ms Sandburg will reflect on what she has done. I do not believe I could live easily with myself had I been involved in the taking of another's life, even for compassionate reasons and at their request." 

Everyone sat frozen in silence while Mrs. Martin gathered up her briefcase and purse and rose. The Captain was the first one to recover. He thanked her for her advice and walked with her to the elevator. 

David Fadden reminded Naomi not to leave Cascade and assured her that he would continue to represent her should that be necessary. He shook Jim's hand and walked out. 

Naomi's tears had stopped but she was pale and still, in shock. Blair stood close to his mother, a hand held out tentatively to her but unseen. He stood waiting for her to notice him. 

Megan was distressed now that her part was over and she hesitated, standing near the table as if wanting to say something to Naomi or Blair but not willing to put herself forward. 

Jim touched Megan's near arm. "It's ok, Connor. Over now." 

She looked into his face and shook her head. "I went too far." 

"No, you didn't. You asked what you had to ask. You did it in a professional manner... but with compassion." 

She stared at him. "With compassion? Is that how I acted?" A last look over to Blair, who now had an arm around his mother's shoulders, "Will he ever forgive me?" She wandered out of the Captain's office. 

Banks returned and stood close to Jim. Quietly, so that only Jim heard him, "Did she tell the truth?" 

His chest tight, Jim nodded. 

* * *

He had called her from Seattle, asking for her help and her discretion. Both were his without hesitation. Luckily, she had written to him just a few weeks before telling him of her plan to visit Blair in Cascade. He already knew where Blair lived and with whom, so it was simple for him to contact her there. 

When he had come off the plane, she was shocked at the change in him. So pale and there was a fear in his eyes that she had never seen before. Not even when they were charged by the police on horseback in Chicago in '68. She hid her reaction quickly and hugged him with tenderness. 

"Oh Jerome, it has been too long!" She felt a trembling in his body and leaned back from the kiss on his cheek to look into his eyes. 

"Been too long, dear." His voice in reply was the old Jerome, richly expressive and warm. They had joked over the years that he could have gone on the stage. This time there was something beyond the affection they had had for each other since they were young. It disturbed her but she could not deal with it here. 

"Come on," she said brightly, "Let's get your luggage and be on our way." 

"Only this carry-on, Ni." He gestured to the small case on wheels sitting at his feet. When he reached out to pull it, she could see he was at the end of his energy. 

"Well, you were never one to haul a lot about. Let me take it, I have been meaning to get a new case and I'd like to try how easily this type moves, turns." She laughed. "Blair has taught me that, to test things." He let her take the case. From the wry grin on his face, she knew he understood what she was doing. 

For one thing, she was happy: their relationship had been honest right from the start. He was one of the few men with whom she could be honest, a man who could see through any obfuscation on her part without anger or judgement. It was one of the reasons she loved him. That and how he had taken care of her and Blair in the difficult months after her son's birth. 

"The car is just across the road here. Blair says I must have been a good person in my previous life the way I can always find convenient parking." 

"So you broke down and bought a car, Ni. I am shocked." 

"Of course not, what a terrible idea! It's Blair's." 

"And he lent it to you?" 

"Not exactly. He did say just to use whatever I needed. So...I needed it." 

Jerome laughed, a rough sound. "Ah Ni, what a sprite you are. One of the Old People of Misty Isles." 

"But dear Jerome, I am Jewish, not Irish." 

"You know, I have wondered whether the Leprechauns slipped you into your mother's arms when she wasn't looking, one of their own to live in the mortal world. Casting your spells over us all. Waving up the powers of nature to your bidding." 

"Oh, as if I would do that." 

"Yes, you would. Though never for anything bad, perhaps a plague of head lice on your worst enemy." 

"Jerome! I don't have any enemies!" He looked at her, face full of scepticism. "Not enemies, dear, just a few people who need their aura adjusted." Her merry laugh and his deep chuckle combined. They had reached the car and she loaded the case onto the back seat. "You are addicted to those mystical stories, Jerome. Blair loved to hear you tell them!" 

He got more serious. "How is Blair?" 

"Fine." Time to redirect. "Get in and off we go." 

"You don't change, Ni." 

"What a sweet thing to say! But you know," quietly, "other things have." Oh darn, now why had she said that. 

"Blair's situation? Dear Ni, that is not change but realization." He sighed as he settled himself in the Volvo. 

She glanced over to where he was doing up the seatbelt. This was not a topic she wanted to pursue. "Jerome, your health..." 

"Not now. Time enough after we reach the hotel." Clearly he had his own topics to avoid. 

"I wish you would stay with Derek and Clarice. They have lots of room out there and Clarice would love to fuss over you." 

"You know I am one for my comforts and with this back-to-the-land thing they are up to...I don't think so. Besides, I want to be close to you, Ni." His voice said his mind was made up, there was no point discussing it. The ride to the hotel had been quiet, he contemplating the passing scene, she wondering about him. He made only one remark. "This city reminds me of that trip to Vancouver. You remember, right after you left him." 

She murmured her assent and left it at that. It seemed to be sufficient for him. 

It took a half-hour to reach the Bayview Inn through the lunch hour traffic. She had selected it because it overlooked a pleasant part of the harbour and had kitchen facilities in each guest suite. He had said he would not be up to much, so she thought being able to cook in would be useful. She had already been there to stock up the basics for him and unable to resist, to add a few of his favourite treats. 

Since she had booked him in during her earlier visit to the hotel, they went straight to the room when they arrived. He was tired after the flight, too pale for her liking. Leaving his case by the closet, she got him to sit down and then unpacked for him. His lack of resistance to her suggestion that he sit and rest surprised and disturbed her. This was a man who preferred to do for himself. 

Rolling the empty case into the closet, "Now, how about a little lunch? They probably gave you nothing worth eating on that flight. Some chemically saturated snack food, I am sure." 

"Really, I'm fine." His voice did not sound fine. 

"There's tongue," she tempted. 

A chuckle. "You know me too well. But I don't think so." He smiled. 

"Then some fruit and yoghurt." At his nod, she gathered what she needed from the refrigerator. When she noticed he was still smiling, lost in his thoughts, "What are you thinking?" 

"About that time in New York when I was battling the Granders Corporation. Those tongue sandwiches you made me. The smell coming from my briefcase in that overheated room drove the lawyer for the Corporation crazy." 

"You never told me." She sliced a ripe peach onto a small plate. 

"Why do you think I asked for the same thing every day? Helped me win that case." At her laugh, "No really, put the poor man off his form. Those sandwiches were at least one of the contributing factors." 

"Oh Jerome, those days were so wonderful. We had such good times." She set the plate of sliced peaches and a bowl of yoghurt on the table near him. 

"Why did you refuse my proposal?" 

His words, so unexpected, sobered her immediately. "You know." 

"You did not love me." 

"I wasn't in love with you." She gestured to the food and he took up a slice of peach, crushed it between his lips and sucked it in with a lick at the escaping juice. 

"It would have been all right, Ni. Would have been good. And Blair liked me. He needed a father." 

"He has done fine without one. But you are wrong, he adored you. For a whole year after that he wanted to be a lawyer... or an Irish spirit." 

"What changed his mind?" He spooned some of the yoghurt into his mouth. 

"The winter two years later we spent in southern Mexico. He became fascinated with other cultures. That became his heart's work." 

"Until..." 

"Yes, until." She twitched at her dress, adjusting it unnecessarily. "So what now?" 

"There are a couple of things I need." He pulled a slip of paper from his shirt pocket and handed to her. A quick study of it. "You have decided on a naturopathic treatment for whatever is wrong?" 

"Not exactly. Just some things to make me feel better. You mentioned a good Chinese herbalist here." 

"Clarice told me about the shop. She swears by them. I am sure they will have all this. Will you be all right if I go now? Before it gets too late." 

"Before Blair comes home and discovers you have his car." 

"My son would never deny me anything." But she grinned at him. "You finish all that and then rest. I shouldn't be very long." 

"Yes Earth Mother." 

She laughed, happy at his teasing and left him. 

An hour later and she was back. All had gone well at the herbalist. 

Jerome was curled up on the bed, laying on his left side, one hand between his knees. From the soft breathing sounds she knew he was asleep. She cleared away the plate and bowl, concerned that he had eaten only half of the fruit. Once he was awake she would prepare him something more substantial, something so tempting he would eat it all. For now, she sat down in one of the armchairs with a cup of guava juice and studied his sleeping form. So like Blair when he slept. That same impossible combination of sprawl and curling inward. 

His body was on the verge of too thin, his cheekbones and nose more prominent in the narrower face. There were dark smudges under the eyes and lines at nose and corners of the generous mouth. That hurt, to see him so obviously unwell. He had mentioned in his call to her that he was under the weather but not what was wrong. She would make sure he told her today before she left. 

In one corner of her mind she wondered what would have happened if she had accepted his proposal. How different would her life and his been? Would he have changed what he did, taking fewer of the poorer-paying underdog cases, needing the money to support a wife and child? Or would they have lived on the edge, scraping by? She would not have wanted him to compromise his principles but he could be stubborn about the silliest things. No point dwelling on it. 

He moaned softly, rolling more to the left, causing a forelock of hair to slide onto his forehead. She rose and brushed it back, feeling the heat of his skin. He was sick. Her touch seemed to have awakened him and she watched as, mind first, he rose through the resisting quicksand of sleep. The way his body firmed into awareness without actually moving. Then a hand adjusting and a knee straightening. Finally, blue eyes that opened, unfocussed. A blink. 

"You're back." 

"Hmm. Rest well?" She combed his hair back from his face. 

His shoulders turned him onto his back. "Yes. Feel like an old man now... or a child... needing my afternoon nap. What time is it?" 

"After three. Want something? Tea? Sandwiches?" She raised her eyebrows at him. 

He smiled. "Not yet. There are some things you want to know." 

The tone of his voice made her very afraid and she was not sure she wanted to know. She moved suddenly, needing to get away. "I'll make tea." 

"Naomi." 

"Won't take me a minute." She could not think for the terrible roaring that seemed to fill her. 

"Not now. Please just sit and listen." He half rose, propping himself up with his elbow. But she was already in the kitchenette and filling the kettle. Then pulling out cups and saucers, sugar and the packet of tea. 

His voice reached through the roaring in her ears. "Don't do this. Come sit with me." 

She paused in her preparations and stared at him. 

"I'm dying." 

Her fingers, gone nerveless, were unable to pick up the ceramic teapot from the counter. Its lid clattered on the rim when she tried. 

"Please come, love, I need you to hold me." His voice was all distress just below the surface. 

She ran over to the bed and drew him into her embrace. Softly, barely audible, "No, no, no, it will be all right. No, no, no. You will be well." 

Into her ear, "It is true, Ni. No doubt. Sorry." 

She leaned back. "What?" 

"Cancer." 

"That can be treated. People recover..." 

"Not this. Anaplastic cancer, big cell type." 

"What can they...?" 

"Nothing. Grows too fast. Nothing that will cure it. Chemo and radiation but that would only give a few months." 

"You will do that." 

"Only fooling myself and then there are all the side effects. No, I won't live like that." He looked away. 

"What...there is something else." She shook him slightly. 

"It's in my thyroid and my larynx. Doctors want..." His voice broke, "They want to take my voice, Ni. And for what? A couple of months. Oh, God, my voice!" He hid his head against her and cried out, " Months, days, hours, just hours in trade for my voice! They want to cut away who I am!" 

She cradled his head and rocked gently, making all those soft 'mm' sounds that always calmed Blair when he was little. It took ten minutes but it worked. He sighed and pulled away, to lay back on the pillows. 

"I can't live like that. Won't live like that." His eyes scrunched up then, as if he was in pain. A couple of deep breaths through his nose and he got it under control. "You know me, Ni, what a coward I am." 

"No, no, all those things you have done against odds to defend..." 

"That was other people's pain. I can't ...I can't..." He grabbed her hand, losing the tenuous control he had for a few moments. "I am so afraid of it, Ni!" 

She took him into her arms again. "I'll be here, I promise. You won't be alone." 

Into her body, he whispered, "I know you mean that but don't promise what you don't know." 

"I do know. We will be together. Let me help." She ran a soothing hand up and down his back. 

After a few moments, he settled back again and smiled up at her. "Yes, you can help. There is something. You were able to get all those things from the herbalist?" 

"Yes." 

"Good. Bring them to me ... and a bowl and that paper bag from my case. And a spoon." He got up and moved slowly to the table near the kitchen. When all was before him, he opened the bag and took out several paper packets and poured them into the bowl. Then, he added the contents of the packets Naomi had brought and carefully stirred all together, ensuring there were no clumps. When he was satisfied, he held the bowl out to her. "Please brew all this in two cups of water. On low, you know the way we used to make green tea. Let it all simmer down to one cup of liquid." 

She was pleased to have something to do and hurried to mix the powdered herbs into a pot of water and turn on the heat under it. 

He had returned to lie on the bed. Patting the mattress, "Come and sit with me. Tell me what you have been doing and Blair, how is he? This position with the police, how is that?" 

For half an hour she spoke and he listened, letting her ramble as she needed. Then she stopped and went to see to the brew. It was done and she set it to one side to cool. Sitting back down with him, she wove her fingers with his but said nothing. 

"Is that all? I can't believe that is every thing." He tugged on her fingers. 

"You are so... do you never want less than all?" She felt like a young girl when he teased her like this. 

"No, never." 

"What never?" 

"Well, hardly ever." They both laughed. 

"Do you remember that well enough to sing it?" She pulled back on his hand. 

"You wouldn't like the way I sing now." His voice was rougher than it used to be. 

"Oh, I don't know. Look, I'll start." She began, voice sweet and high. He joined her and together they got through it, his voice falling away before she ended. 

"That was a wonderful summer. I saw Eric last year. All that fine hair gone and put on weight. He who was so vain about his looks." 

"Reality and growing old intrude into the strongest of vanities, Ni, to show us some hard truths." His eyes roamed over her svelte body. "Well for some of us." 

"Don't tell Blair but even I have aches...and wrinkles in places that used to be firm." 

His face went serious. "You are more beautiful now than the day I first saw you." He touched her cheek with one finger and rubbed it gently. 

"It is your heart that sees and not your eyes." 

"You are right. I have become a sentimental fool." 

"Nonsense. You have always been a sentimental fool but a dear fool." 

He yawned. "Oh, and a sleepy one." 

"Shall I stay?" 

"No love, I will be out for a while, even if it is, what?... four o'clock. Got up rather early. And you have to get that car back home. Just bring me that tisane you brewed in a big glass, would you?" 

She poured the tisane in the largest glass she could find and set in on the bed's side table. "Sleep well." 

"Good bye, my dearest love." He stared up at her, eyes locked to hers. 

A kiss on his mouth and she had left him. 

That was four days ago. Now, Naomi felt the tears running down her face. There had been no release granted her through her meditation. Just visions filling her mind. The reality of what she had done. Perhaps she should go on retreat for a while. 

Epilogue 

"Jim? What ...do you think she will be all right?" 

Jim rolled onto his side, facing where Blair lay on their bed. It was late and yet they were both awake. "I hope so, babe. That retreat centre she went to, she said they would help her. At least she won't have to face criminal charges." 

"Yah. At least. Were you surprised by the DA's decision?" 

"Not really. Though the situation suggested suicide, there was no concrete evidence. And Naomi... her role could easily be defended. Agel made the decision about the herbs, did the mixing himself. The responsibility all his. Or so a good defence attorney could show." 

A long stare from Blair before he asked. "Did she tell the truth? That Agel did not ask her to help him die?" 

Jim had been waiting for this question. After four days, he had began to hope Blair would never ask him. "That was the truth." 

A contemplation of Jim's left hand, now clasped between Blair's hands. Square fingers exploring the long bones visible through the skin, running up and down their length, a fingertip caress ending at the knuckles. "Did she do it without being asked?" 

Damn. What could he say now? "How can we know?" 

"But what do you think?" 

He shook his head. "Don't ask me that." 

"You think she did know what he was planning and helped him." It was not a question. 

Jim leaned forward and rested his head on Blair's chest, listening to the thundering heartbeat. He gave no reply and Blair did not ask again. 

They were quiet for a while, Blair's fingers still rubbing Jim's left hand, the movement caressing Jim's chest too where it pressed against their hands. 

"How do you do it?" 

"What, babe?" 

"Step back. Maintain that ...detachment." When Jim stiffened, he continued, urgently, "I am not saying you don't feel but you manage to ...get on with things. Is it experience? The more you do it, the easier?" 

"No. No, it does not get easier. You learn how to put on a stronger mask. To hold what you feel in a corner and do what you have to and feel it all later. Or to drink yourself numb to avoid feeling." He snuggled closer to Blair. "What you have done for me is give me someone to share those feelings with. You made me see how destructive it was if I did not and you have been right there for me...every time." A sigh. "Even when I have acted like an asshole and shoved you away." 

Blair tugged his hands free and wrapped them around Jim, hugging him tightly. "The past, man. We promised, no more hiding." Jim nodded against Blair. "Another thing. I am worried... this was about loyalty and I had a hard time. What is...where is your ... if you had to ...will I be able to..." 

Jim knew what Blair was asking. "I go with my heart, with who I am. The man said 'to thine own self be true'. I ask myself if I could look at myself in the mirror if I did this or that. Then I do what I think is right for who I am." 

"That easy?" 

"Not easy. Easier since I left Covert Ops but still sometimes it is very hard to know. Sometimes none of the choices seem right. So I have to pick one while being pulled in a couple of different directions. Loyalty to the PD. Loyalty to family...that is you. Loyalty to what I believe is right. Not easy at all." 

A groan. "Damn, damn. Can we...I don't know, I need to think about this. Maybe the PD is not the place for me. Maybe I will always have theses conflicts and not be able to pick the PD when there is a conflict between loyalties." 

"Only you can make that decision. If it helps, it was what Naomi was doing too, picking loyalty to her friend over..." He couldn't say over loyalty to her son. "You have to work that out for yourself but... I am here if you need someone to listen." 

A soft "Isn't that my line?" and Blair tilted his head down. "I know in my mind I should be able to figure this out logically but my gut reactions keep me off balance. I suppose this does not get any simpler with the passage of time either." 

"Nope." He rolled over, taking Blair to lay on top of him. A quick kiss on Blair's mouth and a tight hug. "But at least I have my Shaman to help guide me." 

Blair propped himself up on Jim's chest. "Yah but who guides the shaman? Can't even figure out his own dreams. You know that nightmare I was having before all this started. Umm, I sort of understand it now. A premonition, I think. Of Agel's death and Naomi's part and of being tugged in several directions by the investigation. Big help, not knowing what it meant until after the fact." He dropped his head down onto Jim's chest. Somewhat muffled, "Damn, am I ever going to get this shaman thing right?" 

"Time, Chief. That is one thing that time will help with." 

Blair looked up into Jim's eyes. "You promise?" 

"An idea. Try and draw Incacha to you. Maybe he can help." 

"Incacha?" 

"I told you...his spirit is still here. If you could..." 

"...channel his spirit? Oh man, I never thought I would hear you suggest that!" Jim growled low. "Ok, ok." He started to sit up. "I could go and get my candles out. Try a meditation right now." 

Jim pulled him back down. "Not now, babe. Now, you need to snuggle close and help me get to sleep by going to sleep yourself. First loyalty, take care of the Sentinel." 

A big grin. "Right. Sentinel first. Sounds like an ad for a dog flea collar." 

Jim tightened his arms. "And whose spirit animal is a member of the dog family and likely to be all scratchy with fleas?" 

"Cats get 'em too!" 

"Not this cat!" Jim rolled them over so he was on top. "But you...got an itch that needs scratching?" He humped into Blair's body. 

Blair snorted a laugh and grabbed Jim's head. "Oh yeah! Scratch me, big cat!" 

End. 

* * *

End 

Loyalties by MJ: marion2@cyberus.ca  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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